The Short Straw
by cherrishish
Summary: Neither Alla nor Ivy had an easy life. So when they meet for the first time face to face and get swept up by a whirlwind of things that go bump in the night, they almost laugh in the face of danger. Real monsters are just people, not the kind that lurks under your bed. What they didn't expect was that meeting Sam and Dean might just reveal life-changing facts about themselves...
1. Haunted by the past

**A/N: As a general forewarning, it's safe to say this story is pretty heavy on all sorts of triggers. I'll provide everything in the tags as much as I can.**

 **The Supernatural aspects of the story will appear soon, don't worry, this is a kinda long set up chapter. Set in Season 12 (somewhere between eps 6 &7 btw) for just the set of characters I'm playing around with but I'm staying away from canon plotlines.**

 **Shout out to my wonderful beta Peddlergirl for relentlessly trying to catch all my grammar mistakes that still slip by even when I have reread and edited a chapter for the third time. I love you girl!**

 **Disclaimer: Of course I don't own anything Supernatural, only my plotlines and OCs, and even they I consider a person of their own, so no stealing!**

 **Disclaimer 2:** **there are some minor details in this story that I borrowed from the Iron Druid Chronicles, but the main focus is not on characters from IDC.**

* * *

 **Chapter 1 – Haunted by the past**

 _Vic Mignogna – Nothing I Won't Give_

* * *

Stepping off the airplane after a ten-hour flight shouldn't have left anyone so exuberant, yet Alla was brimming with energy in anticipation of meeting her friend. They had arranged to meet up right outside the exit of the baggage claim area that she was just leaving behind.

The fact that she was even here was absolutely insane if you delved further into it. She had known Ivy Stark for almost a year now, but given that their friendship was geographically challenged, this was the first time they were going to see each other in person. It took months of careful planning and saving up money, but Alla was finally able to get all her travel documents in order and buy plane tickets to the US.

Beyond the excitement, her stomach was in knots for other, less pleasant reasons as well. The visit wasn't purely for pleasure, so to speak. She had one small – but for her, pressing – matter to take care of, one that had been bugging her for the better half of the last decade. Actually, ever since the previous time she had been to the States…

"Alla!"

Her name being called over the murmur and general noise of the airport as she walked through the sliding doors just further plunged her into her quickly darkening thoughts. The memories of the years of vicious teasing and harassment had resurfaced before she could have managed to squash them down and focus on scanning the crowd, looking for that one familiar face just outside the arrivals exit. She pointedly ignored the startled faces of the ignorant assholes who couldn't discern the difference in pronunciation between her name and that of the Muslim god as they glanced around warily to pinpoint the source of the shout.

The young woman was surprisingly easy to spot, despite Alla having only ever seen her in pictures, though admittedly following the gazes of the before mentioned pricks did expedite the process. With her suitcase's wheels creaking slightly at the sudden change in velocity, Alla practically sprinted over those few yards right into the waiting arms of her friend, enveloping each other in a huge hug. Funnily enough, there wasn't a shred of awkwardness between them, as if they had been neighbors their whole lives and the taller girl was only returning from a week-long trip abroad or something. If nothing else, Ivy seemed utterly oblivious to the mistrustful glares pointed at her back that Alla couldn't escape witnessing, unfortunately. At least security had their wits about them enough not take Ivy's shouts for a terrorist threat.

"Would it be weird if I said you look much cuter in real life?" Alla laughed in an attempt to shake off her gloomy mood as she held her friend at arm's length to take a better look at her. The two-inch height difference between them was nothing, allowing the embrace to be effortless between them. Initially, the Ukrainian girl imagined Ivy to be much shorter, though admittedly she had trouble with the conversions between the measurement units she was familiar with and the ones used in the US.

Many would have probably said that Ivy looked a bit plain, with her light brown, mousy hair, blue eyes, and simple features, but not Alla. All she could see was her friend's immensely kind soul that shone through every flicker of gesture she made, every word she spoke. The only thing the Ukrainian girl could think of was that Ivy was beautiful inside and out. She was her dearest friend.

"Khm…" the man standing beside them – whom Alla hadn't even noticed at first, being too focused on Ivy – cleared his throat. He was fairly tall, maybe 5'10 or 11, but honestly that seemed like his most redeeming quality looks wise. He was more on the scruffy side, somewhat like a truck driver returning from a roundtrip with not a care in the world as to how he appeared. The fact that he was feeling uncomfortable, and maybe even a tad jealous of the girls' interaction, was clearly written all over his face. Although, it could have been the result of the whole Allah Misconception too. Who knows? There was no way to tell. In either case, Alla instantly found him disagreeable.

"Sorry," Ivy's sense of decorum had her ears burning slightly with embarrassment as she backed out of the other girl's hold to introduce them. "Alla this is my husband, Aaron. Aaron, meet my friend whom I have spoken so much about, Alla."

"Hi," the foreigner waved at him a bit self-consciously with a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Her accent was practically nonexistent, going against every stereotype people had about people from Eastern European countries. Though the fact that she had lived in the US for nearly three years in her preteens had much more to do with that than any English education she might have had in her home country.

"Hi. It's nice to have the confirmation that it really is a girl who has been occupying my wife's attention practically 24/7 for the last ten months," he laughed awkwardly. Aaron probably meant his comment as a joke, but Ivy sent him an unamused glare, trying to mask the tinge of hurt at his lack of trust in her. Like she would ever cheat on him.

Honestly speaking, the Starks' relationship had been strained for a long time, even before Alla had popped into Ivy's online life by a twist of unlikely events and their shared interests. Aaron and Ivy had known each other since childhood, and he had seemed like the most supporting guy in the world back then, especially given her health issues that developed over the years, but ever since the wedding… she wasn't so sure anymore.

Alla snorted in response, internally deciding that telling the man that she was actually bisexual – so technically the accusation wasn't necessarily unfounded where she was considered – was not the wisest course of action. Of course, it also takes two to tango, and Ivy didn't swing that way, but in any case, Alla's feelings were genuinely platonic in this case too, so there was no need to add fuel to the fire of his jealousy.

Without any forewarning, Ivy swayed a little on her feet, suddenly looking pale, and quite honestly a bit ill.

"Hey, are you alright?" Alla caught her by the elbow, being the first one to notice. "It's not me, is it? I tried really hard to pay attention to only using fragrance-free stuff, and I haven't even dyed my hair in like six weeks."

"No, no, you are fine. The other hundred people who have walked past us in the last twenty minutes on the other hand…" Ivy trailed off, trying to fight off a headache that was quickly becoming unbearable.

Ever since she could remember, she had these spells where she became violently ill with flu-like symptoms for no apparent reason. After a while, they had noticed it would get worse when she was around people, and some of her relatives had even joked that she was allergic to humanity or life. Well, in a sense that description wasn't too far off. For the longest time, doctors couldn't tell what was wrong with her. After a while they came up with the theory that she was just sensitive to chemicals, her body incapable of processing and getting rid of them like normal people could. So these – essentially – toxins would build up in her tissues, making her ill for days in the process, until they left her system.

Limiting her exposure to chemicals in her own life and of those closest to her was something she could control, with watching what she ate and using fragrance-free and natural… well, everything. From detergents to shampoos and conditioners to deodorants and the cleaning products she used around her own house, but once she stepped outside… The brunt of the problem was the perfume that lingered in the air from hair sprays, aerosol deodorants, EDTs, EDPs, EDCs and all that, exposing her to chemicals even when the person leaving them behind was long gone. In the grander scheme of things, this meant that Ivy rarely left their house, relying on Aaron in most things to take care of her. At least she was able to work from home, running her own small business and all that online, which allowed her to feel less like a burden.

Sometimes though, it was a really lonely life. Alla burst into that state of isolation as a breath of fresh air with her constant presence, support, and understanding, even when it meant that meeting for real was hindered by more factors than just distance. Like the fact that Ivy was probably never going to be able to come to Ukraine to return the visit, putting the strain of travel solely on Alla.

And that brings us back to the precautions Alla tried to take before meeting her friend. Unfortunately, the fact that the Starks had to wait for her in the arrivals lobby of the airport, and that any residue Alla might have picked up from the flight rubbed off on Ivy during their hug, were evidently not helping her situation. But they just couldn't help themselves. They had waited for _so long_ to be able to hang out with each other for real. This was a moment to cherish.

"Right, let's get out of here," Aaron agreed gruffly, reaching for Alla's suitcase with a quick glance at her for permission, and they were off towards the exit where the fresh air would probably help the ailing girl tremendously.

After they got in the car, Alla looked at her friend with worry, contemplating if their previously made plans for the next two days were actually a good idea. What with the flight and all, even if it was a relatively short one. The recirculated air of various perfumes of the two hundred or so people on board was going to be a real blow to Ivy's system. Especially if she was already feeling out of sorts to begin with.

"You know, you don't have to come with me tomorrow if you are not up to it. I can cope on my own." Of course, Alla would have preferred not going alone, to have someone there to rely on if she got overwhelmed or too stressed, but it wasn't a must. She had decided long ago that this was something she had to do for her own closure and peace of mind, and honestly, nothing was going to stop her.

"Nonsense, I'll be fine, just bear with me if I'm a bit lethargic," Ivy turned back to look at her with a reassuring smile.

"I have no idea what I did to deserve a friend like you," Alla commented wistfully, laying her head down on the brown haired girl's seat by her shoulder.

"Back at you," her blue eyes twinkled, a fond smile tugging at her lips as she patted her friend's hair.

Neither of them noticed Aaron's knuckles practically turning white from how tightly he was clutching the steering wheel.

* * *

They went out for an early dinner to celebrate their long-awaited get-together, then Alla just crashed in the Starks' guest bedroom upon arriving back at their house. Almost skipping showering or even brushing her teeth altogether, but common sense won out in those regards. Her system was still on Eastern European time and all, so it was way past midnight for her, even if it was only 7 PM in Virginia, and she was just simply beat.

The next morning, Alla awoke to furious and barely contained voices filtering into her room from somewhere beyond the closed door. She could only guess, it might have been the kitchen. The blond girl couldn't quite make out the actual words being exchanged between her hosts, but it sounded pretty intense. Definitely not something she wanted to get in the middle of.

Glancing at her phone, she decided she might as well get up and ready for the day since her alarm would have gone off in ten minutes anyway. In order to avoid drawing attention to the fact that she was awake, she disabled the alert on her cell and got dressed, made her bed and tidied up as quietly as she could, not wanting to seem ungrateful for the free lodging or like a total slob. After grabbing her amenities bag, she made her way towards the bathroom to finish up her morning routine. Once in the hallway though, there was no escaping catching snippets from the married couple's argument.

"Aaron, I don't know how else to say this, and quite frankly I'm tired of repeating myself." Alla heard Ivy exhale a puff of air in frustration. "I've made these plans with Alla months ago. She needs a friend to be there for her."

"I just don't understand why you think it's okay to put your health at risk."

Alla felt incredibly guilty for eavesdropping, but Aaron's concerns weren't unfounded as far as she knew, and she couldn't help but get rooted in her place, curious as to how the dispute would unfold. Why was Ivy so stubborn if she was really feeling unwell? _I mean, I did offer for her to sit this one out…_

"Because I'm being a friend. She has been there for me in more ways than I can count and now she is the one that needs me. Besides I know my limits, I'm going to be okay. It's not like a little headache has stopped me from getting on with my life before."

"You've literally just met the girl yesterday, Ivy!"

"If you think the countless hours we've spent talking online means nothing, you are seriously deluded. She probably knows stuff nobody else knows about me!"

"Wait, not even me? I'm your husband for fuck's sake!" His tone was so jaded and outraged that the only thing that convinced Alla that no actual physical violence occurred was the fact that she knew she would have surely heard evidence of that in the form of breaking plates or something crashing or Ivy's outcry of pain.

"This is _exactly_ why I don't share things with you sometimes," Ivy pointed out in a calm dejectedness, not deigning to stoop down to the level of the shouting match Aaron was attempting to pull her into. "All I get is judgment and snide comments. How about you try supporting me in my decision, instead of stressing me out unnecessarily to make everything worse?"

The sound of approaching steps drew Alla out of her captivation, and she hastily retreated to the bathroom to finally get on with her business. Not even ten seconds later a light knock came on the door.

"Alla, you in there? Can you get ready in five? I want to head out early in case we hit traffic towards the airport," Ivy reasoned, her voice back to its normal, upbeat tone as if nothing was amiss. Made you wonder how often these fights occurred between them if she could step right past it in a heartbeat. Though it also could be that she just didn't want to drop all that drama and tension on her friend, and was only putting up a cheerful front. Especially today, knowing what the agenda for their day was.

"Yeah, sure," Alla replied, deep in thought about what she should do. What if Aaron was right about Ivy's current state of health? She couldn't do this to her friend. In either case, she got ready then stepped back out into the hallway, only to run right into Aaron.

 _Geez, if looks could kill._ His gaze was filled with deep-seated contempt, and Alla couldn't help but gulp nervously as she scurried past him with a barely audible "good morning" to disappear in the guest bedroom.

The man was undoubtedly scary when he wanted to be, the semi-amicable first impression she had of him all but shattered.

Alla took a deep breath to compose herself, refusing to be frightened, then quickly stuffed her amenities kit in her overnight bag that she had packed back at home for this two-day outing within her trip. She swung that along with the purse that held her passport, plane tickets, her phone and money over her shoulder, and exited her assigned bedroom with a bit of trepidation. Deep inside, she wished she could avoid seeing Aaron again before they left, even if not saying goodbye was considered rude.

By some work of miracle, it was just Ivy on the other side of the door, beaming at her cheerfully, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the garage. Upon entering, it turned out that apparently she was all set to go, her bags already in the trunk, garage gate open and inviting them to head out. Alla dropped hers right beside Ivy's, closing the boot with a swift motion, her mind running a hundred miles an hour. Should she bring up Ivy's health issues now? Or in the car? In any case, she still needed a ride to the airport, might as well talk it out on the way.

Surprisingly enough an opening to bring the topic up made itself known sooner than expected.

"Uhm… shouldn't we say goodbye?" Alla cautiously probed when Ivy jumped into the driver's seat without so much as a glance back towards the door to see whether Aaron had come out to see them off or not. Which, incidentally, he didn't.

"Aaron had some business to take care of. He had left already," the brunette diverted, though nervously playing with her slightly curly locks with one hand.

The Ukrainian girl gave her friend a skeptical look. Not even five minutes had passed since her encounter with the man in the hallway, not to mention their other car was still there right beside them in the garage, but then she let it go with a shrug. She hadn't been too enthusiastic to have that potential confrontation anyway, only brought it up because good manners dictated it.

As Alla got into the car, she saw Ivy wincing in pain and rubbing at her temples, her complexion paling and her skin getting slightly clammy.

"Ivy…" Alla tried to ease into the subject with a solicitous glance but got cut off before the protest could've even left her mouth.

"I'm fine, don't worry. Just a rough morning." Her light blue eyes implored her friend to believe her. Alla got the distinct impression that there was no way in hell she was going to stay at home and be near Aaron at the moment. This trip – and some distance – was something she desperately needed, no matter how much her body might be objecting to the effort involved. _Do what you think you can't do, right?_

"Uhm… should I drive?" the blonde offered as a compromise, her voice just slightly wavering with anxiety at her own suggestion. She had gotten her driver's license years ago, and according to her research, her license from home was valid up to six months here in Virginia since it had the English translation on it alongside the Cyrillic characters of her native language, but the prospect of actually driving in the US was… daunting. Everything was just huge. The cars. The roads. And confusing. Especially the intersections on freeways. Not to mention that she had never driven automatic transmission cars before. Supposedly they were much easier to handle than manual transmission cars, but just the novelty factor alone would occupy a significant part of her attention.

"Nah, that won't be necessary," Ivy chuckled at the wide-eyed expression Alla adorned, which in a way was comforting, since who would have a sense of humor if they were truly feeling shitty, right? "Sweet of you to offer though."

With that, the brunette turned the ignition on and eased out of the garage, closing the door behind her with the remote that she had stashed in the little nook on the dashboard above the glove compartment.

The hour-and-a-half-long drive to the airport was relatively uneventful, and awfully quiet since they forewent turning on the radio. Futile as it might have been, it was an honest attempt at avoiding aggravating the headache that Alla was pretty sure was only getting worse by the minute, judged by the subtle frown lines on Ivy's face.

They made it to the Ronald Reagan Airport with plenty of time to spare, so to prevent Ivy from having to endure the perfume plume for longer than strictly necessary, they instead decided to take a walk in the Crystal City area before actually going in for check-in.

Unfortunately, despite all the precautions they took, Ivy was still miserable by the time they boarded their flight, so the first thing she asked for from the flight attendant was a warm wet towel to put on her face, the extra cost be damned! The warmth of the cloth eased her headache some, and it also acted as a barrier and filter between her immediate personal space and the rest of the air in the plane, so she kept it on throughout the whole ride for good measure.

No need to say, it didn't help with Alla's guilt over the situation, but she got the distinct feeling that bringing it up again would just annoy the hell out of Ivy. So instead, she grabbed onto her hand and squeezed it tightly. Ivy seemed to be comforted by the gesture because she didn't let go even after she drifted off into a light sleep.

* * *

The beauty nap perked the brunette right up by the time they were about to disembark in Florida, whereas it was Alla who started to look positively nauseous now that she was so close to the place where the brunt of her childhood nightmares originated from.

Surprisingly, as soon as she set foot in the airport that trepidation lessened some. They must have done a renovation in the thirteen years since she last saw the place on that fateful day when she finally had been able to go home after nearly three years of emotional torture. Nothing looked familiar.

Except for one detail. The entrances to the restrooms were the same, no doors just curved, mosaic tiled hallways that hid the outer area with the sinks and hand dryers.

Without conscious thought, her feet guided her through sheer muscle memory towards one particular ladies' room. This was where she had escaped to all those years ago, to wash off the blood when her stitches had pulled against the wound on her wrist because of the weight of the luggage she had to carry…

"Alla, where are you going?" Ivy asked as she placed her hand softly on the blonde's shoulder, her face furrowed with worry.

That was enough to snap Alla out of the memory, and she glanced around, finding herself in the middle of the busy path in the terminal, people weaving around them with annoyed glares.

"Uhm, nowhere. Let's just go and pick up the car," she suggested with a small smile, trying to assuage Ivy's alarm. Pretending that she needed to go to the bathroom might have been less suspicious, but on second thought Alla definitely did not want to go in _there_.

The brunette assessed her friend for a few seconds then nodded, returning the smile with a tentative one of her own and looping her arm into hers, tugging Alla towards the rental car booth.

The drive over the causeway across the bay was giving the blonde flashbacks, but oddly enough these were the more tranquil kind, just images of the water and sunset. It was peculiar to be surrounded by water and still be on an actual road. There were no structures like these in Ukraine. Probably that's what had made the memory stick so profoundly, even though Alla had only ever taken this route twice. Once when she had arrived, and once when she had finally been able to leave. The second being practically in the dead of night so didn't even really count since she had seen nothing of the scenery.

Ivy kept glancing over at the girl beside her. She was uncharacteristically quiet, nothing like her usual bubbly and goofy self that Ivy got so used to over the internet. Alla was just staring out the window, seemingly lost in her own world. On some level, the somberness was understandable, these were definitely not happy memories she was reliving. On the other hand, the silence made it very difficult for Ivy to know how Alla was really doing and if her intervention was needed.

As they reached the peninsula, Alla straightened from her slightly crouched posture, squaring her shoulders as if preparing for a fight. For a while there weren't any distinguishing features on the buildings, nothing she recognized or stood out for her, though admittedly her time here had been very sheltered. That should probably be the understatement of the year. Or the decade. She hadn't been allowed anywhere that wasn't sanctioned by the church and had been forced to take their private buses in between their buildings too.

And then finally the girls reached their particular destination. Everything was… different, much to Alla's astonishment. In her memories, the downtown area was more like a grayish prison. Dull and ugly to look at. Instead, the town before her more closely resembled a tropical tourist attraction, with its palm trees and well maintained – and probably recently spruced up – streets and shops.

Honestly, the contrast was so shocking it made Alla laugh out loud and startle Ivy.

"Everything alright?" the brunette asked tentatively, mildly questioning her sanity.

"Yeah, just… I think I had been anticipating something more terrifying to happen if I came here," the girl mused out loud, her dark blue eyes looking around curiously now. "I'm happy to find this place doesn't actually have a hold on me… it's just a city. It doesn't even look anything like back then."

"Well, that's good to hear. Do you want to drive around some more?" Ivy inquired, she too relaxing somewhat. In all honesty, she was mentally preparing for some sort of meltdown on Alla's part and running contingency and damage control plans in her mind in order to save their day with everyone's emotional well-being intact.

"Could we park somewhere? Of course, only if you don't mind…" the blonde asked hesitantly, and quite frankly a little unsure of her own decision. Every step she took further down this rabbit hole made her feel like the next one might be the last straw, and she would snap. She found her own calm reaction to the situation a bit too good to be true so far.

"Are you kidding? This is about you, whatever you want or need," she waved her concerns off with a huff, already looking for a suitable place to leave the car.

Walking these streets was even more surreal for Alla. Of course, rationally she knew that there was practically no chance of anyone recognizing her. She looked so different from her thirteen-year-old self, plus hardly any of those people from then were still here. Nevertheless, she couldn't help but feel exposed.

"That is where I had spent the brunt of my days," the blonde said as they rounded the corner, pointing at a taller, cream-colored building. "From 8 AM to 10 PM with only two half-an-hour meal breaks, seven days a week. Well, six for me. Because they so graciously allowed me to have school one day a week. And that is the Starbucks most of my weekly 30 dollars of pay ended up in. I know it was a silly thing to spend money on, but that was one of the very few joys I had, and I just couldn't resist indulging myself. I didn't really have much self-control as a preteen… I suppose that might still be true now."

Ivy didn't really know how to respond as her friend revealed these little tidbits of her everyday life from back then. She knew of Alla's background, they had spoken extensively over the internet of her time in the cult and what could only be described as child slavery. Seeing the "crime scene" so to speak made Ivy's blood boil. How could anyone do such a thing to a kid? And how was Alla even keeping it together so well? Ivy was truly in awe.

"And this is where mom had usually been," the Ukrainian girl gestured at the building with the glass atrium they just passed. "How far is this? A hundred yards? And I barely saw her. So close, yet so far. I can count on one hand the number of free days we had together during those three years. California was even worse in that regard than here. I was out on a ranch in the mountains while she was in the city. Thank God that only lasted four months. Even that was too much at eleven."

Alla sighed, looking around to make sure no one was paying attention to them. She had been keeping her voice down since members of the church tended to mill around their buildings, and the last thing she wanted was someone catching on regarding the topic of their conversation. So far they seemed to be in the clear.

"Do you want to go in?" Ivy tentatively asked, her eyes darting unsurely between Alla and the nearest building. Truthfully, that was the last thing she wanted to do, but if that was the very thing that would bring closure to the girl, then she would suck up her own fears and support her.

"Actually… let's go down to the beach. In my two and a half years here I never actually got to see the beach," Alla decided, something akin to childlike glee of anticipation setting in on her face as she glanced down the road that she knew eventually led to the shore.

"That's an excellent idea," Ivy agreed with a huge smile.

"I mean, I accomplished what I had set out to do. I came back here and proved to myself that nothing would happen, that I could face them. I don't need to actually walk into their buildings to… to… confirm that I'm over this whole thing…" the blond girl faltered, her hands starting to get out of control with wild gestures as she got more and more agitated.

Yeah, she probably wasn't over it. She probably never would be. But the fact that she was able to stand here without breaking down in tears had her proud of the long way she had come.

"You don't have anything to prove to anyone," her friend placated her with a calming hand on the shoulder, and the two of them made their way back to the car.

* * *

There are only a few things more soothing than walking barefoot in the sand as the waves gently caress your ankles, watching the sunset paint the sky in pink and orange hues. Earlier, the girls had checked into a seaside motel then headed out for dinner. Alla's treat, she insisted. And now they'd come down to the beach to enjoy the lovely Florida weather, which was much more forgiving at this time of year than that of Virginia. Here November meant that you could walk around in a very thin sweater in the evening without having to fear getting chilled.

After dusk they had continued walking along the endless stretch of shore, only turning around when they reached the rocky barrier that separated the beach from the sound disconnecting this island of sorts from the peninsula. As the sky darkened, the stars twinkled above them like millions and millions of holes on a dark blue, nearly black canvas, the light contamination from the buildings on the other side of the breadth of sand barely noticeable.

This would have been the perfect closing to a stressful and taxing day. Alla was about to turn to Ivy to ask if they should head back to the motel and turn in for the night, when the brunette suddenly yelped, disappearing from her side. Alla didn't even have time to scream or call for help before darkness enveloped her too.


	2. Koschei the Deathless

**A/N: Hey lookie, the appearance of monsters and things that go bump in the night. See? I told you, you don't have to wait long!**

* * *

 **Chapter 2 – Koschei the Deathless**

 _Miss May I – Deathless_

* * *

The Ukrainian girl woke up, who knows how much time later, in what seemed to be an abandoned warehouse or storage unit of sorts. A few metal shelves were the only furniture in there, and a thick layer of dust coated everything. Old panels of window glass were stacked against the wall on her left, and the permeating smell of mold lingered in the air.

 _Oh, God, no. They've come for me. They found out that I was in town and now they have taken me and…_

"Ivy?" Alla snapped out of her increasing panic as she remembered that she wasn't alone. Her own fate was only secondary. She had been the one playing with fire by coming here, not Ivy. The brunette shouldn't have to suffer through whatever the cult has planned for her. She didn't deserve to be dragged into this.

Her blue eyes spotted her friend lying unconscious on the ground against the wall little ways to her right, seemingly unharmed, but out of it, her hands tied above her head to the pipe running along the wall. Alla just now realized as she tried to get to her that she was bound in a similar fashion too.

As she fought against her restraints, another disturbing fact seeped into her consciousness. They weren't the only two girls down here. Her eyes landed on two sets of ankles towards the far side of the room. She couldn't see more of their bodies because of the poor lighting. Who knew if there were any more of them?

"Hey, are you guys okay?" the blonde called out to them frantically.

No answer came.

A bone-deep chill of dread crawled up her spine right into her brain. _Were they dead?_ She didn't see much skin, but the part that she did was definitely not healthy in color and kind of sunk in too. Almost mummified. The lack of the distinct foul odor that accompanied rotting flesh clued her in that they probably have met their fate quite some time ago as well. Or something sucked them so dry there was nothing left to actually rot.

She was starting to get the feeling that this might not have been the cult's doing after all. Sure, they had plenty of metaphorical skeletons in their closet, but this was definitely stretching the extent to which the organization would go.

Before Alla had any more time to assess their current predicament, something moved from the shadows into the small patch of moonlight filtering in through the windows high above, making her cry out in bewilderment. Had he been there the whole time?!

At first glance, it could have been a man, even if a superannuated one at that. His skin was ashy in color, leathery and sticking to his skeletal frame in wrinkles, a few wisps of silvery white hair falling from his scalp onto his shoulders, which were barely covered by thin scraps of fabric. His hands were deformed into claws, and his eyes glowed with an ethereal blue light. As the creature stepped forwards into the light, Alla's eyes landed on a feature that had her face paling with recognition. A bony crown sat upon his balding head.

" _Peezdets'…_ " the blonde girl swore in her native language, English words failing her at the moment.

The monster looked at her with what could only be interpreted as callous disinterest before turning to Ivy.

 _Right. In the folklore stories, it always went for the wives…_ Shout out to all the single ladies to remain just that…

"Leave her the fuck alone!" Alla yelled at it, thrashing uselessly to get its attention, but it just kept going for her friend without so much as a head turn.

It placed its osseous fingers on Ivy's cheeks, bringing her face up to its own. What the creature wanted to do with Ivy, Alla didn't know – the wife was always rescued in the stories before anything terrible could have happened – nor did she ever find out. The door to the cellar – at least that's what Alla assumed it to be now – burst open, the frame and lock mechanism giving way under a powerful, well-placed kick.

If Slavic folklore was anything to go by, Alla would have expected Aaron to be standing there, coming to the rescue of his wife. But first of all, this was no fairy tale, and second, Aaron wasn't the heroic type as far as Alla had deduced from their brief interactions.

No, instead it was a woman, around their age, equipped with a shotgun and various other weapons in her khaki utility jacket, her shoulder-length wavy blond hair whipping around her face as she flung herself against the monster to push it off of Ivy.

Their rescuer dug out a taser – from who knows where – to electrocute the thing, shot it once in the chest then again in the head with her sawed-off shotgun, and then beheaded it with a machete for good measure, before coming to untie the both of them. The whole affair didn't take longer than thirty seconds.

"I'm Mary. You guys are going to be alright, okay?" the mystery woman talked to Alla in a soothing voice, which gave a fascinating contrast to the previous, very gung-ho and violent demeanor she had exhibited. It was almost hard to believe that the behavior belonged to the same person.

"It's not dead," the Ukrainian girl stated with a shaky voice, rubbing her wrists as Mary moved from her to Ivy, cutting her ropes too, then going to check on the other two. The fact that she came back pretty quickly with a grave expression on her face confirmed Alla's earlier suspicions.

"I'm going to set fire to the room just to make sure, but believe me, it is dead. Can you help me get her out of here?" the woman seemed pretty confident, and she had a point. Getting the hell out of Dodge was more critical at the moment, yet Alla had this nagging feeling that flames weren't going to solve the issue either.

Alla crawled over to her friend, patting her face lightly. "Ivy, wake up."

"What…? What happened?" she slowly came to, noting the unfamiliarity of her surroundings with frightened eyes.

"I'll explain, I promise, but let's get a move on," Mary insisted, her eyes trained on the monster the whole time as if expecting it to reanimate itself at any moment.

Ivy glanced at Alla, looking for confirmation that they could trust this person. The Ukrainian girl nodded slightly. As far she was concerned this woman had just saved their lives. She helped the brunette to her feet, and they hobbled with trembling limbs to the stairs leading up to the exit.

As they resurfaced, it became evident that they had been in the basement of an abandoned house, one that had a separate entrance from the outside too. Surrounded by quite a bit of land, no neighbors in sight. Alla silently watched Mary pour lighter fluid – and _salt?_ – all over, then flick a lit match to the trail of gasoline with impeccable aim. The flames raced over the tiny path that led from where they stood to the cellar entrance, then enveloped everything inside their former lockup, soon spreading to the upper structure too.

"It's not dead, you know," Alla repeated now that the immediate danger seemed somewhat lessened. Her hold on Ivy tightened, whom she had been keeping upright this whole time. The brunette hadn't said anything, not a word of complaint leaving her mouth, but she seemed a bit worse for the wear. The smoke and whatever was down there was finally getting to her.

"What is not dead?" Ivy's head jerked up in alarm.

"Sweetie, I know you are probably shaken up right now. That thing was a monster, a supernatural being. I am a hunter. I kill these things professionally. Trust me. It is dead, you are safe now," Mary tried to placate the girl who was obviously in distress about the whole ordeal.

This was the part she hated the most about hunting, even if she was naturally good at it. Giving the talk to the victims and making sure they would be able to get past it. This isn't a trauma you can turn to professional psychiatrists with, and expect them not to lock you up, claiming delusions.

"If you do this professionally, then you can tell me the name of it, right?" the Ukrainian girl challenged her with a steady gaze, definitely not the behavior you envision from people in a state of shock.

"It was a rawhead. It usually preys on children, but you guys are young enough to confuse it," the blond woman stated, slightly unsure of her own assessment. The MO was a bit off. It should be children, not married women – mostly – even if they were relatively young. And the electric shock should have taken care of him the first time…

"I'll take that as a compliment, but you are wrong. That was Kostiy," Alla stated with conviction, pointing back at the house that was ablaze now.

Her adamancy was enough for Mary to at least consider the possibility, especially since the girl had given her a name for the creature. Something she could research and verify.

"Have you had experiences with the supernatural before?" the hunter tentatively asked, checking the facts. She was still skeptical after all.

"No, but it looked just like the monster from our folklore. Parents scare young children, especially girls with Kostiy to keep them from wandering off at night. It is immortal. I'm pretty sure the thing in there is not dead," the blonde insisted, getting a bit worked up since she was getting the feeling that she was not being taken seriously. Even her accent became a little more pronounced. It didn't evade Mary's attention either, as well as the pronouns she used, referring to a group of people with a clear distinction she was a part of and considered separate from those she was among now.

"Where are you from?" she asked with a kind smile, assuming that she was a foreigner, possibly only visiting the States for a short time. Though people who had permanently relocated to the country in pursuit of the American Dream still retained that us against them mentality too.

"Ukraine," Alla admitted, a tiny bit of hope rising in her that her theory wouldn't be outright dismissed.

"So Slavic folklore, right?" the hunter probed contemplatively. That she wasn't familiar with. Not in depth at least. Technically there was so much out there that even those in the life never encountered. Up until a month ago, she didn't believe angels really existed either. Being closed-minded could quickly become the death of her.

"Yeah," the girl nodded.

"Okay, let's get into my car and discuss this further. The fire department will be dispatched soon, and we need to get out of here by then," Mary announced as she came to her conclusion, ushering the two girls away from the burning house.

* * *

It was starting to dawn by the time they got Ivy situated on the back seat with a plastic bag she could puke into if it came to that. She looked really ill, which worried Alla to no end. The headaches were reaching migraine levels, strong enough to trigger nausea. The only thing keeping Ivy from vomiting was probably the general exhaustion that came after the adrenalin crash. This was just way too much excitement for her, the stress worsening everything tenfold.

"Did the thing get to her?" Mary asked the Ukrainian girl. She had no idea how to treat someone supernaturally poisoned by Kostiy or a rawhead or whichever. She didn't know if a case of poisoning was even possible from these entities, but better have her facts straight just in case they needed to jump into research as soon as they got back to a motel.

"Uhm, no. Ivy… she is chronically ill. She is sensitive to chemicals, so whatever coated the surfaces down there besides the dust, and the smoke from the fire, her system can't flush it out like ours through the kidneys and liver… and sweating. It's making her ill," Alla explained as she got into the passenger seat of the Ford Sierra.

"Do you guys have medication or something? Where are you staying?" the hunter already had the engine running and backing away from the house onto a dirt road.

"Down by the beach in Clearwater… Sand Point or Silver Sands…" honestly she hadn't been paying that much attention last night where Ivy had checked them into, she was too preoccupied with her emotions regarding the cult. That seemed like such a distant worry now. "Something sand motel, but no, we don't have pills for this. Medicine and drugs are essentially just chemicals again, they will generally just make her feel worse."

"So what _can_ you do?" the blonde behind the wheel inquired, practically getting more concerned for Ivy's well-being than Alla, which was saying a lot, given that she didn't even know the girl and that Alla was just about out of her mind with worry.

"Letting her rest up and ride it out. It's like the flu for her really right now. Maybe getting her in the shower to get the chemicals she hasn't absorbed yet off of her skin," Alla mused out loud. Hopefully, they can get Ivy to wake up or be coherent enough to tell them what she needed once they got back to the motel.

"Okay. Okay, that we can do," Mary exhaled heavily, somewhat calmed by the fact that they had a game plan, even if a weak one.

After a few minutes, they reached the end of the dirt driveway that led to the abandoned house. Once they were back on the paved road, the hunter returned to their original issue. The monster.

"So… uhm…" she began tentatively, regretting that she had to broach the subject again when the emotional trauma was still so fresh, but it had to be done.

"Alla," the Ukrainian girl supplied her name, realizing that she had never introduced herself. She internally cringed, anticipating the question for clarification that was sure to follow.

"Alla, what made you think that thing was Kostiy?" Mary inquired encouragingly, wanting to understand the whole thought process. Maybe there were some clues in those folklore stories that she could use now to gank the fucker.

The hunter had the Ukrainian girl's name rolling off her tongue like it was the most common name ever, no sign whatsoever on her face that would have indicated that she had made that abhorred association. It made Alla warm up to her instantly. She was starting to get the feeling that she had just been surrounded by very shitty people before and decent human beings did not start making fun of you based on just your unusual name here in States either.

"Well, the thing that made me instantly jump to my childhood bedtime stories was the bone crown. Every illustration I ever saw in fairy tale books had that. The ugly, senile, skeleton-like appearance, plus the fact that it is menacing young women, especially wives, just cemented it. Ivy is married, by the way, she was taken first. I think I was just an afterthought," the foreign girl recounted after a big sigh, guilt coloring her demeanor again. Ivy was only down here in Florida because of her. The brunette could have avoided this whole experience if she had stayed home, but Alla had dragged her along on this stupid quest for closure.

"So how do you kill Kostiy?" the hunter asked the most crucial question, at least in her line of work.

"Well, in all the stories one thing is common. It cannot be killed by conventional means targeting its body. Like physical attacks. That's why I said it isn't dead. Its soul is hidden separate from its body inside a needle, which is in an egg, which is in a duck, which is in a hare, which is in an iron chest, which is buried under a green oak tree, which is on the island of Buyan, in the ocean. As long as its soul is safe, it cannot die," Alla recited from her memories, barely pausing to breathe in between sentences.

"Talk about convoluted bedtime stories…" Mary sardonically remarked.

"Also, if the chest is dug up and opened, the rabbit will bolt away. If it is killed, the duck will emerge and try to fly off. It is said that anyone possessing the egg has Kostiy in their power. If the egg or needle is broken, Kostiy will die. In some tales the egg must specifically be smashed against Kostiy's forehead to take effect," the Ukrainian girl continued, concentrating on a faraway point ahead of her to keep her motion sickness at bay on the bumpy road. Mary sure had a dynamic driving style. At least she got to sit shotgun. The back seat would have been a recipe for disaster.

"Wow, you know your lore," the other blonde stared at her with wide eyes.

"Not really… I just have a near eidetic memory. My brain is littered with useless trivia," Alla shrugged. Usually, people thought that she was a know-it-all, so she learned not to open her mouth most of the time if she didn't want to alienate others.

"I'd say it isn't useless right now," the hunter refuted gently.

"Yeah, who knew this crap was real…" the girl huffed, the acerbic tone taking even herself by surprise. Though given what a day she had had, it was understandable.

"So… how do you get to Buyan?" Mary chose not to comment on the outburst, instead redirected their talk back to the practicalities.

"It's a mythical island. So magic, I guess… Other than that, I have no idea. Children's stories don't typically get that specific," Alla rubbed her forehead tiredly. She wished she knew. Maybe that mythology class at university that she had decided not to take would have come in handy right now.

"I think it's time I called the cavalry of lore research," the woman from the driver seat suggested, not at all perturbed by the momentary hiccup.

"Who is that?" she inquired, genuinely interested. Who would a person like Mary, a hunter of the supernatural, trust?

"My sons. They have a bunker full of books on supernatural lore and research. If someone can dig up what we are looking for, it's them," Mary stated with conviction, already dialing.

"Wait… you are twenty-something like us, thirty at most, how can your sons be old enough…" Alla trailed off, puzzled, to say the least as to how this could be possible. Even if she had become a mom at a very young age, the boys couldn't be older than fifteen by her calculations. Sure, kids these days were like wizards with a computer. Theoretically, that's all you'd need for research, but drawing them into a dangerous profession like this at such a young age seemed outrageous to her, especially considering her own history.

"It's complicated…" the hunter tried to explain, but suddenly someone picked up at the other end of the line. "Hey, Sam!"

"Mom?" the very masculine, thick with sleep and definitely not teenager voice of a man came from the speaker of the phone, baffling Alla even further. There was just no way in hell this voice belonged to someone below twenty, but she guessed he had to be at least their age if not older.

"I have you on speaker, sweetie," Mary informed him, simultaneously hinting that she was not alone. Internally she kicked herself for not realizing that it would probably be even earlier for the boys, disturbing their much-needed sleep.

"Uhm, okay. What's up?" Sam asked, his tone indicative of his astonishment and curiosity. Whether it was the fact that Mary had called him or that she wasn't alone, or he was just interested as to what she wanted, Alla couldn't even begin to guess at. There was definitely some unresolved tension between mother and son, but the fact that they loved each other dearly was evident.

"Are you guys at the Bunker?" the blond woman inquired, hoping that they were. Time was definitely of the essence in this case if their monster was indeed unharmed and out there, free to terrorize women.

"Yeah, are you coming by?" there was a longing in his voice, so palpable that Alla's heart broke a little. _Had Mary abandoned them? Was that the reason behind the tension? Or the inexplicable circumstances that apparently made Mary younger than her own sons?_

"No, I'm sorry. I got sort of stumped on a case down in Florida. Could you guys dig up whatever you can find on Slavic folklore, especially Kostiy, means to kill it, and the island of Buyan, possibly how to reach it? My guess is that there's some spell of sorts involved."

"It's possible that the creature will go under Koschei or Koshchei, those are the more popular anglicized variations from the Russian name," the Ukrainian girl commented, the idea that her native spelling and name of the monster was actually not the most common one just occurring to her.

Sam stayed silent for a moment, and Alla almost apologized for butting into the conversation uninvited, but then he shook his shock off.

"Yeah, uhm, sure we can do that. I'll get back to you in a bit. Stay safe till then," Sam said quickly before hanging up.

* * *

Sam stared at his phone for a while, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Mary was hunting. That was for certain. He was pulled from his reverie as Dean waltzed into his room, tired and groggy, only his robe flung over his sleepwear to keep him from getting chilled in the cold hallways.

"Who's calling you this early?" the older hunter grunted, apparently having been woken by the loud ringtone echoing through the tiled corridors.

"Mom," Sam revealed, feeling just as puzzled as Dean seemed to be.

The older hunter stayed quiet for a few seconds, trying to process that information and the implications it might have.

"Is she okay?" he asked his tone hard with just a hint of worry. He was still upset that Mary just walked out on them. It was akin to losing her all over again and gave him severe trust and self-worth issues. Were they not good enough for her?

"Yeah, uhm, she is hunting. She needs some help with research," the younger Winchester supplied, feeling uncomfortable with being the one to deliver this piece of news. Why hadn't Mary tried calling Dean instead? He was the older son and honestly the better hunter. Though admittedly research was more Sam's domain. He just wasn't sure Mary had realized that in the terribly short time she had spent with them.

"Hunting? Alone?" his green eyes flashed with outrage at her recklessness, even though his tone remained level if not a bit grouchy. She had just been getting settled back into being a part of the living world, using technology and relearning how society worked nowadays after a more than thirty-year hiatus. Going on a hunt without help in this state was like sending a baby seal into a lion's den in his opinion.

"Well, she wasn't alone, that's for sure. There was a woman with her," Sam commented. Thinking back, she might have been a hunter, or someone at least partially familiar with Slavic folklore if nothing else. Maybe a professor or an expert Mary sought out for research? Just how aware was the mystery woman of the supernatural? She had a cute voice though, he mused internally without realizing where his thoughts had taken him. There was just a very slight hint of an accent there that had him intrigued. She couldn't be too old either.

In the meanwhile, Dean's face went from perplexed to contemplative, then whatever occurred to him had his ears turning slightly red.

"Well, khm, I guess it's not our business who she decides to share her bed with," the older hunter remarked, apparently embarrassed at saying something like that.

"I'm pretty sure Mom doesn't swing that way, Dean," Sam threw him an unamused glare, bordering on his bitchface. _Seriously, dude, you wanna go there?_

"Alright let's freaking drop Mom's sex life as a topic altogether," Dean suggested, gesturing that he considered the subject closed with his hands too.

"Good idea," his younger brother huffed derisively, rolling his eyes.

The older Winchester was about to leave when he turned back to ask something as if it was just a passing thought now occurring to him. "What are we researching again?"

"Slavic mythology," Sam revealed.

"Awesome," Dean's tone suggested just the opposite, and he made his way towards the kitchen to put on some coffee to brew. He had a feeling this was going to be a long day.


	3. I don't need no hero

**Chapter 3 – I don't need no hero**

 _Jessie J – Hero_

* * *

Ivy got herself together enough to make it from the car to the motel room on her own two feet – with Alla's help naturally – so they were able to avoid awkward questions. Whoever might have seen their wobbly journey probably just assumed that they had a wild night out and Ivy got a bit too enthusiastic with her alcohol consumption. Anyone _actually_ knowing Ivy would have laughed in their faces. She hardly ever drank.

For a moment Alla panicked that they had lost their room keys and belongings, but Ivy somehow managed to still have everything stashed in the deep pockets of her cargo pants that she had been wearing to the beach last night. Hurray for small victories.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Mary produced a large bag of salt from her duffel and began pouring it along the windowsills and the door.

"What are you doing?" Alla inquired in bewilderment, just the thought of cleaning that up later horrifying her.

"Protection. Keeps vengeful spirits and demons out," the hunter offered the explanation with a half-hearted comment, too concentrated on her task to filter her thoughts or pay attention to easing Alla into the reality that ghosts and other things that go bump in the night were very much real too.

"Right. Why haven't I thought of that…" the Ukrainian girl's saucy attitude was back in full swing but instead of dwelling on the implications – vampires, werewolves and such – she busied herself with getting Ivy sitting comfortably on the bed and helping her strip out of her soiled clothes.

Good thing that they had already changed the sheets to the ones Ivy had brought from home – washed with her own special detergent – on the other one right after checking in because honestly, Alla wasn't sure how she would have been able to manage everything at once if that weren't the case.

"I would draw some devil traps and warding sigils too, but I'm guessing you want your deposit back," she added nonchalantly, seeming not at all bothered by Alla's temperament.

"Are we anticipating some sort of attack, or do you think these would work against Kostiy too?" Ivy spoke up for the first time since they had gotten her in the car, taking the other two women by surprise. That and the fact that she had been paying enough attention to the conversations around her to perfectly stay in the loop, and even managed not to get too freaked out about the whole supernatural business.

"I'm pretty sure they won't, most folklore has their own set of symbols. As for the rest… better to be safe than sorry," Mary said truthfully. Scary or not, she didn't really think that blindsiding her rescuees would be a wise choice given that they were stuck with each other for now.

"Yeah, I think I'm past caring about our deposit after tonight," the brunette remarked sternly, groaning pitifully as another wave of nausea hit her. "What time is it?"

"Just after 5 AM," Alla replied as she sat down and let Ivy lean against her for support, while Mary went back to working on the defenses of the motel room.

"Aaron must be furious. I didn't call him last night," she sighed, rubbing her temples. Her headache was flaring up from just the thought of that inevitable phone conversation.

That sentence didn't exactly sit well with Mary – Alla either for that matter. It screamed of a controlling and possibly abusive spouse. Getting worried was one thing, especially with Ivy's health issues the hunter had come to learn of. It must have been terrifying for her husband to let her go on a road trip, imagining all the ways something could go wrong. Ivy collapsing somewhere or needing hospitalization, for example. But getting angry with her over not checking in, while out with a friend? Ivy was not some teenager requiring supervision. She was a grown woman, capable of making reasonable judgment calls regarding her own well-being and care.

"I know what you are thinking," Ivy remarked as she noted the emotions flitting through Mary's face. "Aaron's just worried… and deals with all emotions through anger, unfortunately."

"Well, that sounds healthy," the hunter remarked sarcastically. Officially it was none of her damn business, but for whatever reason, she was feeling very protective of the two girls she had just met. Or maybe it was the nagging feeling at the back of her mind that this pattern seemed familiar. Maybe just a tad too close to home. John used to be the same way, especially if he had been drinking. "Does he get violent?"

"He… he has never laid a finger on me," the brunette self-consciously replied, fiddling with her hair. A tell of hers, Alla had come to realize.

"Why does that not sound reassuring at all?" Alla commented dryly. Aaron might not have actually hit his wife, but oh boy, she was sure that he indeed got physically violent in other ways. She could just imagine plates and other possessions flying through the air when he was in a fit of rage.

Mary's cell phone went off before Ivy could respond or defend her husband in any way. Honestly, she wasn't even sure if she wanted to make excuses for him at the moment. She was just too tired and way too unwell to deal with this shit right this second.

"Let's get you into the bathtub, okay?" Alla's tone softened as she stood up and held her hands out for her friend to grab onto.

"Uhm, I'll have to shower first, then there's a bath scrub in the checked-in bag that we would have to clean the tub with before I could sit in it… My bath salts that could help me detox should be in there too…" Ivy explained, flustered by how inconvenient and annoying the whole process must be to someone not used to dealing with it. Not to mention that she was feeling like she was burdening her friend with this task, unable to do it for herself. A simple outing should not have to come with hurdles like these.

"I've got it, don't worry, alright? Just sit down right here," the Ukrainian girl reassured her as she guided her friend to the lidded toilet. As she ran back into the room to swiftly grab the aforementioned bag, she cast a quick glance to Mary, very curious about how that phone conversation was going to go.

"Hi, Sam! Any news?" Mary answered once the door closed behind the two girls and heard her younger son's audible sigh of relief at the fact that she had finally picked up. Maybe that had been one ring too many for his liking. His overprotectiveness was endearing even if slightly annoying.

"Everything alright with you?" he asked frantically.

"Yeah, just a medical emergency," the blond woman replied, instantly regretting her choice of words, or even mentioning anything about Ivy's condition.

"Are you hurt?" Sam's distressed worry made her wince even more.

"No… uhm, one of the girls I saved tonight has a preexisting medical condition. Getting kidnapped by a monster and being held in a dirty cellar definitely did not help, but Alla is with her and handling it," she tried to quickly explain without trampling too much on Ivy's privacy. Surely, she didn't want this whole thing broadcasted to strangers, and Mary's sons were just that to her. Strangers.

"She is fine, Dean, calm down," the younger Winchester sent an irritated comment to his pushy brother before getting back to Mary. More specifically to the mystery woman she was with. Every new detail just got him even more interested in this unlikely alliance. "Alla?"

"She is the one who identified the creature," Mary explained, knowing that this should put things in enough context for her son. He had heard her speak on the phone before.

"Is she a hunter?" Sam inquired, the question catching the blonde utterly by surprise. Why was he so concerned with who she was?

"No, she is the other girl who had been taken," she supplied, her eyes furrowing as she tried to decipher where this conversation was going. She couldn't help but feel like the parent-child dynamic had just been flipped entirely on its head and she was being interrogated about who she was hanging out with like a rebellious teenager.

"And she knows of the supernatural how?" her son probed further, concerned with the credibility of Mary's sources.

"She doesn't… _didn't_ until tonight…" the woman said, faltering as she tried to work through her confusion and figure out why Sam was acting like this.

"Then how…?" he challenged.

"She is Ukrainian. This monster is part of her culture's folklore," Mary burst out exasperatedly, getting very frustrated with this line of questioning already. Some serious trust issues were present, of that much she was sure, but whether that was directed at her and her judgment calls or at Alla, she wasn't sure.

"Oookay…" Sam drawled, clearly backing off but also put out by the way Mary had reacted to him. The fact that tidbit of information did explain quite a lot had him calming down some. The pieces fit together now, her accent and insight into the folklore, though unless she had been studying mythology, he couldn't quite imagine how she knew so many details.

"Just give me what you have, Sam," the woman sighed, regretting losing her patience, but also not wanting to apologize since her son was the one out of line. They would have to learn sooner or later that they can't expect her to run her life according to their whims. They weren't little kids anymore who needed her constant supervision and quite frankly the same was true in reverse.

"Well, I've sent over a picture to your phone of the illustrations of Koschei from the lore, at least check if this is really what we are dealing with before I get into it further," the younger Winchester sighed, he too trying to regain his equilibrium.

Her phone pinged, and Mary fumbled with it to open up the message while simultaneously keeping the line open with Sam. In her time phones were attached to walls, not multimedia platforms.

"Yup, definitely the same guy. Alla was right. That bone crown is really distinctive," she confirmed and could just about hear Sam rolling his eyes that she was referring to the foreign girl's observations again.

"Good thing we are on our way to you already then. We should get there by tomorrow evening at the latest. Where are you exactly?" her son declared, and now that she paid attention, the distinct rumble of the Impala was audible in the background noise. They surely didn't waste any time.

"Silver Sands Motel in Clearwater," Mary supplied the information before her mind could catch up with indignation at the fact that her own boys were hi-jacking her case.

"Okay, stay in the motel room at night. Koschei only hunts for women after dark," Sam instructed, and that was really the last straw for the female hunter. Familial concern or no.

"I can handle the monster. Alla has already filled me in on the whole body and soul separation thing, I just need a way to get to Buyan and…" she began to explain, barely keeping her temper in check.

"Yeah, that is why we are coming. The spell involved is kind of complicated, and I don't think you can get your hands on the ingredients needed," the younger Winchester interrupted her, which along with everything else was just fuel to the fire. He really should have chosen his words more carefully.

"I'm capable of gathering the necessary things for a wretched spell. I'm not that rusty, you know," Mary snapped in exasperation, wrongly assuming that her sons didn't have confidence in her hunting skill and that is why they were swooping in.

"Give me that," Dean's mildly irritated voice cut in as he grabbed the phone from Sam. She hadn't been on speakerphone, but obviously, her volume was loud enough for him to hear the highlights of the conversation. "Mom, with all due respect, but no, you can't."

"Sweet of you to worry about me, Dean, but I've hunted all my life. I can handle killing a duck and a rabbit," she huffed, trying very hard to reign her ire in, repeating the mantra in her head that they were just looking out for her over and over again.

"Oh, I'm sure. The problem is that the spell calls for the blood sacrifice of a man," her older son remarked gruffly.

"What kind of male chauvinistic crap is this?" Mary cried out, taking Dean by surprise with that one too.

"Don't ask me, I didn't write the spell. More specifically it asks for the blood sacrifice of a husband. Sammy here has tied the knot before. Even if it was under a love potion I'm sure it counts," he chuckled, glancing teasingly towards his younger brother.

"Dean," Sam huffed in a snit, snatching his phone back. "Mom, sorry about that. In any case, we are on the way, we have everything with us for the spell. Just sit tight till we get there."

"Who was the lucky girl?" Mary decided to ask just to pester him in good humor, but truth be told, it was glorious to be able to get back at him a little for his earlier interrogation.

"I am so not getting into this right now. Love you, Mom!" he asserted before hanging up, no doubt sufficiently embarrassed by the exchange.

Mary shook her head with a loving smile. The dynamic between her sons was fascinating to see. Dean had been very protective of Sam from the moment his little brother was born. Scratch that, even when Sammy had been in her womb, Dean was already cradling her belly like it was something to be cherished and guarded. She was glad to learn when she was resurrected that that hadn't really changed and that Sam looked out for his older brother too, but these good-humored jabs spoke volumes about just how close the brothers were. Probably the only remotely good thing coming out of John's parenting style.

Food would probably have been an excellent idea right about now, especially for the girls who were currently holed up in the bathroom. Keeping their blood sugar from dropping too low would have been wise, just in case they would go into delayed shock from the events that had occurred to them, but frankly, Mary was beat. She had been on her feet, working on this case without any sleep for 48 hours straight. So, despite her best intentions, the couch sort of swallowed her up. As sleep began to claim her, she vaguely remembered that someone should have kept watch, but that was drowned out by the constant hum of the shower filtering in from the bathroom too.

* * *

Mary jolted awake some hours later, instantly sitting up and looking around for potential threats. Only to find Ivy peacefully sleeping on one of the beds with a wet towel mostly covering her face, and Alla sitting by the window, seemingly on the lookout and probably had been from the moment they had emerged from the bathroom. Honestly, at first glance Alla might have looked like a delicate flower with her slender frame, long blond hair, dark blue eyes, and freckles. With her current posture and expression on her face, the only thing missing from her hands was a firearm and Mary would have wholeheartedly believed that the girl had been a hunter her whole life.

"Any sign of trouble?" the real hunter inquired, trying to mask her chagrin with herself for having been so careless.

"No, everything's quiet. We should probably get some food though soon," Alla replied, her stomach grumbling loudly almost on cue, making her blush with embarrassment.

"Yeah, I can do that. Sam and Dean suggested we shouldn't leave the room at night in case Koschei decides to take another swipe at us, but since it's… uhm…" Mary straightened herself as she cast a quick glance at the clock, taking another second to fully return to the land of the conscious and get an ample yawn out. "Noon, I think we are good."

"Should we have like a secret knock or something to make sure it's not some else I'm letting back inside when you return?" the Ukrainian girl asked almost shyly, hoping her suggestion wouldn't make her look silly or paranoid. What if there were shape-shifting creatures out there?

"How…?" she looked at her perplexedly, since that was precisely the protocol her father had taught her, and probably all hunters have implemented at one point or another. Mary vaguely wondered if she should also quickly show the girl all the other tests to perform to make sure it wasn't a demon, shifter or other gnarly beast disguised as her trying to enter.

"Uhm… I don't know how familiar you are with recent European history… but a few years ago there was a violent revolution in Ukraine. Or more like a coup d'état, which has kind of left some eastern parts of the country in total anarchy to this day. We didn't live in the exact epicenter of all that, but close enough that before we could move to Kiev, we had to adopt a few new habits to ensure we weren't letting extremists into our house. Some of them were horrible people, robbing places, raping the daughters of unsuspecting hosts…" Alla revealed somberly while Mary showed her the knock pattern to remember.

Those were another set of dark couple of weeks in her more recent past, though thankfully in the past five years she hadn't had to fear for her life even if the results of that tension were still affecting current day life in Ukraine.

"Were you…?" Mary probed, fearing the worst. She was starting to get the feeling that there was much more to this girl than meets the eye.

"Oh, no. No. We got out of there very quickly, but word travels fast. You'd have to have been pretty ignorant to not know what was really going on," the Ukrainian girl dismissed the concern instantly. For all the things she has been through, sexual abuse was not one of them, thank God.

"That's good… that's good… good job on keeping watch," the hunter sighed in relief, kind of getting lost in her own train of thought.

"Eh, no problem. Sleep is overrated, right?" Alla shrugged with a lopsided smile.

Mary observed her a little more. The girl's eyes were unusually talented at hiding pain, but that comment spoke volumes. She could only imagine the nightmares that must have plagued her if she could be so nonchalant about lost sleep.

"Right… what should I get you?" the hunter switched topics to avoid the awkwardness that would ensue from trying to over analyze the situation.

"I'm fine with whatever. For Ivy, I guess the less processed, the better. Fast food is full of artificial stuff, but I'm sure she will eat anything too if she has an appetite when she wakes up," the blond girl said.

"How long have you known each other?" Mary inquired, inspired by the curiosity suddenly overtaking her. When Alla tilted her head to the side with a mysterious smile at that question, she felt the need to elaborate. "It's just that you seem pretty knowledgeable about her condition."

"You'll laugh at me, but yesterday – well the day before yesterday – was the first time we've met for real. We've been talking online for almost a year now though," Alla laughed out a bit self-consciously because honestly, it must have sounded ridiculous. It always was to older generations, and Mary just had something about her that screamed old school.

"Ah, with that internet thingie, right?" the other blonde perked up with recognition. The way she had said that was comical, to say the least, confirming Alla's impressions of her, especially the fact that Mary seemed surprised that she knew the technical background involved.

"Mary, can I ask you something? And you don't have to answer if you don't want to… but what's the deal with you and your sons… I mean, are you a time-traveler or something?" the Ukrainian girl voiced her speculations. Honestly, she wouldn't be surprised if that was possible too.

Mary laughed at that. "No. I died in '83 actually… Dean has told me that the Darkness had revived me as a gesture of gratitude for Sam and Dean helping her reconcile with her brother, God," the hunter divulged with a roll of her eyes. She believed that story alright. She just didn't understand how this was a gift to either of the Winchesters. Especially her. She felt like a fish out of water ever since she had woken up in that grassy field.

A long silence followed. If this had been a comedy flick or cartoon, surely chirping crickets could have been heard in the background. Maybe even accompanied by a tumbleweed blowing past. _Was that supposed to be a joke?_

"So… long story short, you were dead, now you are not. Missed thirty odd years, while which your sons grew up," Alla surmised with a quick rant, hoping her mind would refrain itself from exploding with the overload of information that was dumped on her in the last twelve hours.

"That sums it up very well," Mary nodded in agreement, taking note of that short explanation for future reference.

"The world has seriously gone bonkers…" the girl muttered to herself, burying her face in her palms as if that could hide her from reality and all its craziness.

"Are you sure you'll be okay while I go out?" the other blonde hesitated for a second, unsure if leaving Alla alone in her state of mind was wise.

"Yeah, yeah, go," she waved her on, taking a huge breath to calm herself. _Everything was fine. Absolutely fine._ It's not like every mythological creature from just about any culture she had ever known was real, including the Bible and an assortment of other religions. _Insert sarcasm here._

"Reapply the salt line and lock up after me, okay?" the hunter instructed as she made her way over to the door.

"Sure," Alla clambered up from her seat stiffly since her limbs had fallen asleep from sitting in one place for too long. After letting Mary out, she just couldn't go back to remaining still, so pacing in the room it was, while her mind ran off on wild tangents. _How could anyone live in this world with this knowledge and not try to do something about it?_

"You are going to wear a path into the carpet," Ivy chuckled groggily a few minutes later, looking at her friend from the bed without even trying to sit up.

"Did I wake you?" the blonde worried. The brunette needed her rest, and quite honestly still looked like a freight train had run her over.

"Nah. What time is it?" she sighed, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"Noon," came the quick answer from Alla, and she raised her brows at the brunette as her face went panicky. What was it with everyone being so obsessed with time today? Admittedly, Mary must have felt sorry for falling asleep on them when she was supposed to be the hunter in charge of protecting them, but Alla could only imagine just how exhausted the woman must have been. No one could blame her for needing a well-earned downtime.

"Shit. I really need to call Aaron. Plus, we are going to miss our flight at this rate," Ivy dragged herself into a sitting position, wishing the ugly patterns on the walls to stay still already. She felt so dizzy, and out of place, it wasn't even funny.

"You are in no shape to fly, Ivy," the Ukrainian girl remarked sternly. There was no budging her assessment on that. They weren't going anywhere.

"But the rental car has to be returned…" the Stark girl griped, feeling really sorry for all the extra costs she was putting on her friend with this trip. Go figure she would worry about that instead of her health or the fact that she had been attacked last night by a supernatural entity that as far as she had known didn't even exist. Nope. Calm as a cucumber about that. But the fines the rental company was going to charge them with…

"Mary and I will take care of it. And don't worry about the plane. I'll make sure you get home once you are up for it," Alla reassured her. She really wanted to give the girl a hug, but she just now realized that in the whirlwind of happenings she hadn't even been able to shower yet, not to mention sleep…

"But…" Ivy wanted to protest, but her tone lost much of the conviction. Even though the odd way Alla had put that sentence didn't avoid her attention. _What about her? Was she not coming back to Virginia? What about her stuff and everything?_

"No buts… or butts for that matter," the blonde turned around and wiggled her behind around, pointing at it wackily. Unfortunately, she was almost as flat as a board in that regard, but it provided a great pun at this moment.

"You are goofy," she giggled, and Alla considered that mission accomplished. It had become sort of a game – or more like a challenge – to her over the months, finding the most ridiculous things she could make her friend laugh with over the internet, especially when she was feeling ill or down about something. Usually in the form of cheesy puns, and the weirdest pictures and gifs she could scour from the web.

"Yeah, yeah, but you love me all the same. Call Aaron before he gets an aneurysm or something," the Ukrainian girl suggested reluctantly. That was inevitably going to put a damper on the mood, but kind of unavoidable at this point. Someone had to tell him that they weren't coming home yet and also an update on Ivy's health was probably warranted too.

Alla considered going and taking a shower to give Ivy some privacy, but honestly, she didn't know when Mary was coming back, and she didn't want to burden Ivy with having to get out of bed to open the door. Plus, the brunette didn't know the protocols, like the salt line and the knock… Not to mention that Ivy didn't seem like asking for privacy either, more like imploring her with big blue eyes to stay for moral support.

So, she did.

They found out that their phones' batteries had long since died, and no one thought to put them on the charger last night – or this morning depending on your definition of a day – so they had to hook those up first. There were like a dozen missed calls on Ivy's and just about double that in furious texts. Alla's didn't have any, though that wasn't a surprise. She didn't give her number to Aaron, and honestly, there was no one really to note her absence… especially not on her temporary American phone number.

"Where the fuck have you been?" the angry male shout – so loud that even Alla could hear without it being on speaker phone – was his first response as he picked up.

"Hi to you too, Aaron. I'm doing much better now, thank you for asking how I've been," Ivy replied sarcastically, just about done with tolerating any more verbal abuse from her husband, especially after the little talk the girls had given her in the wee hours of the morning. It had been eye-opening, to say the least. Undoubtedly this was not okay, in any shape or form. She was very grateful for the nine hundred miles separating them because had she been in the same room with this temper right now she would have feared for her life.

"Am I supposed to feel sorry for you now, Ivy? I told you not go on this trip," Aaron remarked snidely, not a shred of compassion in him for his ailing wife.

"Your genuine concern is so heartwarming…" the brunette quipped back. She was tired of this conversation already. Always the same wretched carousel they seemed to get on each time Ivy dared to do something that Aaron didn't agree with.

"Don't give me that crap. Who the fuck do you think has been taking care of you for years now, huh? I know your body better than anyone else. You should have just trusted me when I said you are not up for this trip and then you wouldn't be in this mess now," he ranted on, all high and mighty as if he was righteous in his assessment.

"Just so you know I was totally fine until…" Ivy began, but Alla frantically gestured for her not to reveal the actual events taking place last night. Aaron would think they were crazy and probably have them committed once his wife returned to him.

"Until what?" the man snapped impatiently.

"Some guys down at the beach got too enthusiastic, harassing us. We are fine, nothing happened, thankfully the police were right in the vicinity, but the stress kind of got me knocked out. Not to mention their cologne was nauseating…" the brunette quickly improvised. That was pretty close to the truth, and Alla nodded to her with an impressed glance. It was entirely believable.

"What are you saying?" Aaron's voice was low and even now, carrying a dangerous vibe, which truth be told was even more frightening than the shouting. Alla had no doubt in her mind that he was capable of terrible things if he wanted to. She really couldn't quite fathom how he had been restraining himself from physical abuse in the past. She was seriously terrified for her friend's safety in the future. How could she ever leave the country and her friend in this situation knowing how volatile her husband was?

"That I can't get on a plane right now," Ivy blurted out.

"Well, I'm not driving down there to get you, and sure as hell not paying for another plane ticket for who knows when!" her husband declared with something that Alla could only imagine as a smug smirk on his face. Safe to assume that he considered Ivy cornered, expecting her to cave and crawl back to him apologizing.

"You talk like you were paying for this trip, Aaron. The whole thing was on Alla's expense," the brunette pointed out with a deadpan expression. _Seriously?_

"Don't talk to me about that bitch, she got you in this mess in the first place. Good luck getting out of it," he snapped again. No doubt he was harboring some pretty deep resentment for Alla. Her stuff could be damned. She was not going back into that house.

Ivy's response to her husband's outburst caught her by surprise though.

"Fuck you, Aaron. I'm done with you. You can talk shit about me all you want, but I'm not putting up with you lashing out at my friends, who by the way have been more supportive than you've ever been!" and with that she hung up, throwing the phone against the wall in a fit of frustration.

"Ivy…" Alla began, feeling guilty for the strain in their relationship and also trying to figure out what her friend had meant. Was she just done with him and this conversation for now? Or was she planning on leaving him? Filing for divorce?

"Give me a bucket, quick!" the brunette suddenly paled, her skin almost turning a tinge of green. The Ukrainian girl got the waste bin from beside the bed in haste, holding it under Ivy's chin just in time for her to puke loudly into it, whimpering from the force that her body expelled her stomach contents with.

"It's okay, let it out," the blonde tried to reassure her verbally. Supporting the girl physically was unavoidable now, whether Alla was still covered in grime or not. She came to sit beside her on the bed, entrusting the garbage bin in the ill girl's hands, while she steadied her with one and held her hair back with the other.

Her body convulsed for several long minutes, but there was hardly anything to throw up by the end since they hadn't eaten anything for a while now. The dry heaving was possibly even worse.

"Do you think another bath would help?" Alla asked once Ivy had calmed down, slumping tiredly against her. If nothing else getting rid of the clammy, sweaty feeling would significantly lessen her discomfort.

Ivy managed to nod weakly, her legs shaky and barely holding her up as her friend guided her back into the bathroom. Good thing no one else had taken a shower since her. Alla was able to skip on the cleaning and scrubbing and just get Ivy right into the tub once she let the water run long enough with the bath salts poured in after helping her friend undressed.

They've said it before jokingly over texts that there was probably nothing that would be considered TMI between them, but after this day that statement had become true in every sense. Nothing as effective to cement a friendship as witnessing them being sick and naked… several times in quick succession.


	4. Puns Puns everywhere

**Chapter 4 – Puns. Puns everywhere**

 _The Beach Boys – Fun, Fun, Fun Parody:_

 _Pun, Pun, Pun by Phil Alexander_

* * *

Their secret knock came on the door about another twenty minutes later. Alla had left Ivy alone in the bathroom at her insistence and was just sitting at the desk twiddling her thumbs, so she sprang up instantly to open the door.

"I managed to find some salad and hamburgers at the diner down the street, I hope they are fine," Mary announced, her disposition much cheerier than that of the other blonde's.

"Yeah, uhm, let's just set it here on the table for now," Alla said, her own exhaustion seeping into her voice now. She had been hungry earlier, but now she wasn't so sure anymore.

"Everything alright? Where's Ivy?" the hunter inquired upon not seeing the other girl on the bed.

"Bath. We called her douchebag of a husband… it didn't really end well. He was pissed we aren't returning tonight," she tried to simplify the matter.

This whole fiasco… she totally understood why Ivy had wanted some time to herself to process everything. Even if it left Alla a bit adrift with her own emotions. Regret, guilt, remorse, loneliness were just a few examples of what had been running through her head in the last fifteen minutes. She wanted to have a good cry, but honestly, this was neither the time nor the place for it. Not to mention that she felt like she had no right burdening Ivy with this on top of everything else. She had been through enough on her own.

"Flight or road trip?" Mary inquired. Honestly, she had been wondering if getting the girls out of here and thus out of danger would have been better, but that didn't seem like a viable option at this point. Ivy was simply too ill to be moved. She even considered that the brunette should be taken to a hospital if her condition worsened.

"Flight, and no. Really not. She just threw up…" Alla sighed heavily, dragging her hands down her face, trying to keep herself awake as she assessed what else had to be taken care of since they were surely not leaving for a while. "I need to check us in for another night downstairs. Or two. Plus take the rental car back. Though I have no idea how to manage that, I don't want to leave Ivy here alone…"

"I could take it," the hunter offered, seeing how the Ukrainian girl was about to break down under the weight of everything on her shoulders.

"Yeah, but you weren't put down with them as a driver… I'm not sure what the fines are if I 'let' you drive…" she protested, somewhere deep down wanting to chuckle, since wasn't this the exact same thing Ivy did with her just a half an hour ago? But that urge was not nearly strong enough to bubble up to the surface under her weariness.

"I'll handle it," Mary asserted, placing her hands on the girl's shoulders.

"But then how are you going to get back here?" Alla feebly retorted, slightly terrified of the possibility of them getting stuck here alone with a monster on the prowl.

"Taxi… have you heard of it? I'm pretty sure they're still a thing," her mouth quirked to a small smile. At least she hoped… she had seen a few yellow cabs in the bigger cities, surely Tampa wasn't lacking in them either.

"Well, Uber is cheaper…" the Ukrainian girl argued, unable to stop herself from speaking before her know-it-all-ness shone through.

"What?" Mary looked at her with confusion.

"Sorry, uhm, never mind… I think I'm reaching my limit…" Alla sighed, rubbing her face yet again. Geez, she was so tired.

"Why don't you lie down and sleep?" the hunter suggested, gently guiding her towards the still made bed, pulling the covers back.

"But what about Ivy? She'll need help to get out of the tub…" the blonde pointed out. Surely neither Ivy nor Mary would be comfortable with this arrangement…

"I'll manage. Sleep!" Mary practically ordered as she sat the girl down.

"Yeah, I can do that," she drawled and unceremoniously fell to her side, still clothed and all, her feet dangling off the edge of the bed.

Mary snorted to herself as she pulled the girl's shoes off, lifting her legs onto the bed and basically tucking her in.

* * *

 _Alla was back in one of the buildings of the cult, trying to prove to a group of fanatics that she wasn't worthless, wasn't a piece of useless shit, wasn't a waste of space as they had repeatedly drilled into her over three years. She was an adult now, and desperately tried to tell them everything that she hadn't been able to put into words or express when she had been just a teenager because she had had no frame of reference. All the double standards, contradictions, and unfair – and quite honestly, illegal – conditions present in the church. But logic and rational arguments were like fuel to the fire of their disapproval and every word that left her mouth seemed to dig her into an even deeper hole than before. Just like back then._

Everything I do is always wrong.

 _You weren't supposed to think for yourself or have any thoughts really, just expected to automatically follow orders, like blind sheep being herded to the slaughterhouse of the mind. But she couldn't_ not _see the abuse, the lies, she couldn't_ not _raise her voice when confronted with injustice. So they tried to break her, brainwash her into the good little soldier she could never be._

 _She couldn't take it anymore. She wanted out… but there was nowhere to go…_

 _She was trapped._

 _She was trapped… she realized, panic taking hold of her._

"Alla!"

Firm hands on her shoulders were shaking her awake, and Alla bolted up with a gasp and tears streaming down her face.

She should have expected these particular nightmares to return with full force, now that she was back in this town. She really should have, but naively she thought that Koschei and the loom of the more imminent danger, or even the exhaustion, would drown them out or at least redirect them. Even if only one night. But no. It had to be her recurring dreams of futile exercises in self-redemption to people who really had no business setting expectations for her. Why her subconscious cared so much about the opinions of mindless drones who had once before driven her to suicide, she had no idea. Years of therapy couldn't tell her. On a rational level she had sorted through this, she could, of course, recite all the theories on the whys, but her subconscious mind was still playing a game of catch up at times.

"Well, I assume the shock had to settle in sooner or later," Mary remarked as she assessed the girl, who was still panting and shaken from whatever visions her mind had conjured.

"Pfft," Alla snorted, pointedly refusing to give in to her weakness. She was stronger than this. She was so done with this. Those fuckers would never have any power over her again if she could help it. "You think I had nightmares of Koschei? Please… I grew up with gruesome stories about him. Believe me, real monsters are just people. Not the kind that lurks under your bed."

The two blondes stared at each other for a while, Alla's statement hanging heavily between them. Mary had suspected before that something awful had happened to the girl in the past, and of course, it had to be something humans did to her. She was mumbling about being taken or trapped in her sleep, and the hunter had just assumed she was reliving the cellar… but apparently not. Had she been kidnapped before? By whom? How old had she been then? She did say she had never been sexually assaulted, but why else would someone abduct a girl if not for sick perverted games? She didn't seem like a rich brat, being held for ransom…

"Do you want something to eat?" Mary asked, deciding that the best course of action would be to just skip right over this one. It wasn't really her place to pry.

"Yeah," the Ukrainian girl nodded, climbing out of bed at a sedated pace. She noticed that Ivy indeed had made it back to bed somehow, napping peacefully.

"Ivy fell asleep a good four hours ago," the hunter commented as she followed her line a sight.

"Good. That's good," she sighed as she sat down to eat. It was around dinner time, judging from the lights filtering in through the blinds and she was absolutely starving despite everything. No matter what anyone said, reheated burgers were still delicious.

"I took care of the car and room, by the way, so no need to worry about those either," Mary added.

"How much do I owe you?" Alla asked because she honestly couldn't let the hunter pay for those. Now that she thought about it there was the food she was eating, too. She really needed to even things up between them. Having been saved was already so much more than she would ever be able to repay.

Speaking of pay. How did hunters make money? It didn't seem like a lucrative business given that no one freaking knew about the supernatural besides their speculatively small circle of buddies and the surviving victims. That couldn't make for a viable established customer base and didn't seem very probable that they asked payment in exchange for saving people anyway, random or returning victims.

Mary on the other hand just cast her an incredulous gaze, speaking volumes that money was something she handled very lightly. _Ooookay_ , maybe Alla didn't want to know the source of her income after all. Had to be something illegal.

The rest of the evening was mostly uneventful. Sam called a little past eleven to inform Mary that they were going to stop for the night somewhere near Chattanooga, Tennessee. Just mentioning the name of which was enough to prompt Alla into a high-pitched giggling fit every single time. American city names amused her to no end. Like Culpeper, where Ivy lived. And Cincinnati. And Boise. And now apparently Chattanooga. It reminded her of a Hungarian theater play one of her friends from over there raved about. Other than that she had no idea what it could mean, it just sounded funny.

* * *

The next day, well, it was much of the same. Alla and Mary rotated being on watch, Mary sometimes going out to get food, while the girls slept and tried to recuperate. Especially Ivy. Honestly, they were getting quite bored, notably more so after the night went by and no attack whatsoever came from any kind of supernatural being that they had been gearing up for mentally to fight all this time. Even the witching hour had been almost blissfully quiet. Mary – when awake – was mostly going through articles on the internet, trying to find omens or odd deaths for her next hunt, since this was one seemed to be coming to a close, even if she wasn't the one who was going to finish it. That detail still gave her a sour taste in her mouth.

So, when six in the afternoon rolled around, and Mary's boys called again to ask which room she was in exactly, it had come as a welcome diversion. Alla was brimming with curiosity about the men already, even though she didn't dare interrogate the female hunter about them. She didn't know why, but she imagined them as surly, redneck type people. Maybe it was a blatant stereotype, but who else would have the mental constitution for this job? Definitely not pretty boys. She still wasn't exactly sure how Mary got mixed in the business in the first place. Though that did make her think… unless their daddy was an ugly ass guy, Sam and Dean couldn't be that bad looking, based on just pure genetics. Mary had the potential for drop dead gorgeous and even as utilitarian as she was, she was undoubtedly beautiful.

The familiar knock pattern that Mary had taught her vibrated the door, their visitor's hand falling much heavier on the wooden surface. So that was the family code? If Mary died when they were young, did their father teach them that? Who did he learn it from? Or have they established this pattern after she was revived? So many questions were running through Alla's mind. In either case, she felt a bit like an intruder, having been let in on this secret.

Mary cocked her gun just in case, then went to open the door. The tension only slightly relaxing in her shoulders when she saw that at least physically they appeared to be her sons as promised. Nonetheless, she gave a silver knife to each of them to test themselves with while still outside the door, and a bottle of holy water to take a drink from, she herself repeating the process too to assure the other side just the same.

Now, Alla was definitely not prepared for the pair of tall – and very handsome – guys waltzing in, with morose and guarded expressions on their faces. The fact that they hadn't been prepared for her presence in the room either was clear from the shocked expressions and the wary glances they threw at each other too.

The Ukrainian girl slowly stood, not wanting to alarm them, just assuming that Mary was going to make some sort of introduction. Damn, the one with the almost shoulder-length hair and hazel eyes had to be at least 190-195 centimeters tall… What was that in feet and inches? Maybe 6'4? And the other one wasn't that much far behind either in height, though he had spiky, gelled hair and green eyes. Both had muscular physiques and wore plaid and some sort of utility jacket similar to Mary's. Alla had come to realize that was the trick to hiding a butt-load of weapons on your person without notice.

"Sam and Dean. Alla," Mary made very quick of the introduction, pointing so hastily to the boys that the other blonde couldn't even catch who was who, then closed the door behind her sons and reapplied the salt line with practiced efficiency, while they dropped their duffels in the corner.

"Uhm, hi. Alla Koleshnikova," why she felt the need to introduce herself with her full name, she had no idea, but it was flying out her mouth before she could even think. That awkward wave seemed to have made it permanently into her first greetings protocols too. _Snap out of it, damn it, these are just pretty faces!_

"Like the guy who made the AK-47?" the shorter one asked with pensively furrowed brows, momentarily breaking from his distrustful demeanor.

 _Weapons fanatic. Should have figured._

"Uhm, no, that's Kalashnikov, and he was Russian," Alla corrected him, feeling very self-conscious but also relieved that at least her first name wasn't causing problems. Though if they were familiar with all sorts of mythology and religions because of supernatural research then they were probably much more educated on the subject of pronunciations of these creatures too. She was just going to assume that Allah was a supernatural entity along with all the Pagan gods she could think of. She probably wouldn't go wrong there. Wonder if Santa and the Easter bunny were a thing too…

"Ah, my bad then… though maybe if he wasn't rushin' so much…" he smirked at his own awful pun, looking conspiratorially at his brother for acknowledgment, but instead of the usual bitchface, Dean found him staring at the blond girl.

How could someone look so similar to, yet so different from Jess? The overall features – long, slightly wavy blond hair, highlights a bit grown out, dark blue eyes, everything – was there, even the height (she seemed around 5'7). Yet, the girl lacked that naïve sense of innocence, despite her freckles and the polite – albeit a bit startled – smile on her face. For whatever reason Sam saw right through that façade that she tried to project, the one that told the world that she was okay. He saw a tortured soul, one that despite all the hardships still retained kindness that was generally hard to find in people. All of that discerned from a look in her eyes.

Dean elbowed the Moose standing beside him in the ribs, rolling his eyes. His baby bro was practically drooling.

"Uhm, yeah, hi, I'm Sam. Winchester. That's Dean," he said quickly, stumbling over his words a bit.

"Smooth," Dean muttered under his breath, moving further into the room, past the girl, not wanting to watch this poorly written romantic comedy bit unfold any longer.

Alla followed him with her eyes for a just a split second, a tiny bit wary of letting him get behind her. They definitely had an air of lethality to them. No doubt they had killed countless creatures, maybe even humans in their line of work. Every move they made spoke a million words about their training, experience, skills, ability to assess risks and weak points as they sized up their surroundings. The only thing that kept her from being jumpy was the fact that Mary trusted them, and somehow, she had come to trust Mary in the last two days.

When she glanced back at Sam, he was looking at her again, and Alla didn't really know what to make of that. His gaze was so intense, yet full of sorrow. Maybe even pity. It felt like he was baring her down right to her soul. She felt naked and exposed, but at the same time safe for some reason. _Compassion_ , that was the word. Whatever Sam was seeing in her, he felt compassion for it and wouldn't dare hold it against her.

Mary just watched them with a tiny little knowing smile on her face, intent on not intervening.

"Well, who do we have here?" Dean asked suddenly with a hint of amused interest mixed into his displeasure of being caught unawares with something again, noticing Ivy's sleeping form in the bed further away from the door, effectively breaking whatever moment Alla had with Sam.

"Leave Ivy be, please. She isn't feeling well," Alla asked kindly, turning his way again.

Sam instantly put the picture together from what Mary had told him over the phone yesterday. Alla seemed to be doing exceptionally well for someone who had just been abducted by a monster preying on women, and simultaneously had to find out that these things even existed. And the look she was giving her friend spoke volumes about her character. Protective. Caring. Selfless.

"Poison Ivy got to her?" the older Winchester joked, so damned pleased with himself that all these great opportunities were presenting themselves one after another.

"Dean, I'm sure there wasn't any poison ivy down in the basement, and she doesn't even have a rash," Sam looked at him in frustration, his tone getting just a tiny bit condescending.

Alla chuckled at their banter. The lighthearted back and forth was such a stark contrast to their appearances and general demeanor.

"You're going to bite your tongue with the DC references when I tell you her last name," the Ukrainian girl smirked, knowing exactly what the older brother was referring to, and also finding it very funny that he even knew pop culture references. Though maybe Mary's obliviousness to everything modern was giving her a skewed view of hunters. She supposed they had to have some downtime once in a while too, why couldn't they watch movies, TV shows and read comics like every other person?

"See? Someone gets it, Sam! And I thought you were the geek!" Dean quipped with a sense of triumph, winking at Alla, essentially giving her a touch-free high-five with his eyes. The blond girl was getting the feeling that teasing his younger brother was a favorite pastime of the guy.

"I just prefer Marvel… DC is a bit too dark for my tastes. There's enough darkness in our lives as is," Sam muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

Alla, all of a sudden, had an intense urge to reach out to him, or comfort him in some way. A finger or two of hers might have even twitched a little before she could suppress her inclinations because in the next moment Sam was looking intently at her hand.

"Well, then we can just pretend Ivy is the long-lost cousin of Iron Man," the Ukrainian girl quipped, cradling her offending limb with the other against her chest to keep herself from doing something that might be constituted as an attack or too sudden of a movement.

"Huh," Dean huffed approvingly. Tony Stark was alright. He had good tastes in music according to the movies. _AC/DC? Back in Black? Any day of the week!_

He tiptoed closer to take a better look at the sleeping young woman. Brunette, with cute, girl-next-door kind of feel to her. Yeah, he would tap that.

Ivy stirred suddenly, her features around her nose and eyes scrunching up in discomfort. She opened her peepers almost instantly, finding an unfamiliar guy – albeit an insanely gorgeous one – just inches from her face. The brunette's sense of panic set in just about the same time as the scent of his cologne hit her.

That combination led her promptly to puking her guts out to the side, leaving Dean barely a moment's notice to jump out of the way. Her aim was not really good, and she ultimately missed the bin that was set on the floor by the bed just for this purpose. The bedding, rug, and Ivy herself, as a result, were much less lucky, even if there wasn't much coming up. She only managed to eat some soup earlier.

"Well, that's definitely a first. I swear ladies don't usually react like that to me," he tried to joke nonchalantly, a half-hearted apologetic face plastered on him for the others, though as he glanced back towards the girl, the apparent signs of worry were written all over him.

"It's not you… the smell," the brunette tried very hard to keep herself from throwing up again while forcing the words out through her teeth. Embarrassment was so far down the list of her worries that her pale face didn't even manage to gain a faint pink tone.

Dean sniffed himself around the armpits, not even trying to be inconspicuous about it. "Funny, I even showered today."

Ivy would have laughed if she weren't feeling so miserable. The guy clearly had a funny bone. She found that endearing.

"No. Your cologne," Alla intervened, pushing the hunter out of the way and further away from Ivy. She had stopped caring at this point if he would get jumpy by being suddenly touched. The blonde moved closer to help cleaning her friend up, opening the window in the process to air the heavy scent of musk out. She mentally berated herself. She should have realized sooner that this would be a problem, but honestly, she didn't even notice the stuff they were wearing was so quintessential.

"Watch out for…" Sam commented, noticing from his angle the elongated piles of tiny white grains along the windowsill too, reminding him of the protections Mary had set up.

"I know. Salt line. Don't worry, I was careful," she retorted, leaving Sam stunned as to how she even knew about it. He glanced at Mary questioningly, who just shrugged, mouthing "fast learner" to him as Alla skipped over the vomit stain to help Ivy out of the thin sweater she managed to soil.

"Wait, what is that?" Dean snapped to attention suddenly, stepping back closer as he noticed something weird on Ivy's right shoulder that had now become visible with just the camisole top she had on underneath.

"She is sensitive to chemicals, like perfume in the air. Would you mind just backing off?" Alla tried to hint not so subtly now, getting a little irritated, but nodding thanks to Mary who handed her a few towels from the bathroom at the same time, one of which she instantly laid over the wet patch on the carpet and patted the other along the ones on the bed.

Sam watched like a hawk. Smart. Fierce. He added to the mental list of her qualities.

"This?" Ivy, on the other hand, craned her neck to see what he was referring to, her curiosity winning over nausea. "A birthmark. I had it as long as I can remember."

"Well, that is definitely not a birthmark. Looks more like a tight-knit pattern of runes burned superficially into your skin. The kind you'd see in witches' curses," the seasoned hunter commented, throwing a meaningful look to Sam, beckoning him to come and take a look too, before retreating away from the girl as requested.

"What!?" Alla and Ivy exclaimed in sync, glancing between the three professionals for an explanation. How could that be possible? Would that mean Ivy had been cursed? For like most of her life? What was the curse's effect? Who put it on her?

"You said her last name was Stark, right?" Sam asked Alla gently as he examined the offending patch of skin from as far away as he could to avoid upsetting the girl's sensitive nose even further.

"My husband's last name, yes. Why?" Ivy answered instead, refraining herself from trying to scratch off the crisscrossing lines of her back. Now that she was so aware of it, she swore she could feel it itch.

Disappointment flashed across Dean's face at the news that the girl was married, gone before anyone could have had a chance to notice.

"Does he by any chance have relatives named Don and Maggie?" Dean cut in, his voice full of accusation, even though both the last name and those given names were fairly common.

"Uhm… I think he has an uncle named Don, and if I remember correctly his wife is named Maggie, but I have never met them. They don't come to family reunions or anything. Aaron only mentioned them in passing once," the brunette replied unsurely but truthfully, almost looking pleadingly at Dean to make this go away. He seemed like the guy who would have an answer or solution to everything, or if he didn't, he would sure as hell find one.

Sam and Dean exchanged glances again, and it was as if they could have a whole conversation without any words spoken. Everything was suspicious about this. And everything fit. Dean never mentioned that Don and Maggie were supposed to be husband and wife. And there was the fact that they were absent from "family" functions. They had to keep their never aging bodies a secret. Ivy's husband could be a distant descendant though. And it would explain why they would help him with a spell in the first place… that is of course if he was involved, but Dean's gut told him that he had to be the culprit.

"Are they witches?" Mary inquired, connecting the dots pretty quickly too.

"Yes," Dean confirmed, sighing before continuing. "Petty and spiteful, but old and powerful witches… Dammit. We should have killed them when we had the chance."

His last words were directed at Sam, his displeasure and guilt over the situation clearly written all over him. Alla was starting to see he was the angsty one in the family.

"That was five years ago, Dean. Ivy said this had been on her for like forever, it wouldn't have made a difference," Sam tried to calm him down with words of reason, rounding Ivy's bed to join his pacing brother.

"Killing the witch sometimes reverses the curse," the older brother pointed out, his voice rising with each sentence he spoke.

"And sometimes it makes it permanent. Let's not get hasty, and research before we jump into this," the taller hunter pointed out. "Plus, I still have Koschei to take care of."

"Wait. What do you mean you? Isn't Dean going with you?" Mary spoke up, alarmed by that news.

"Uhm… no, the spell only lets the one giving the blood sacrifice through," Sam explained apologetically. That meant him since he was the only – albeit previously – married male in their bunch. It working even for him was speculation on their part too.

"Alright, enough of the chitchat. Let's go over to your room, Mom, and set everything up," Dean tried to usher the hunters out of the room, assuming that Mary was only over here for the duration of the wait.

"This is my room," the blond hunter stated, looking perplexed.

"You let civilians you didn't even know bunk with you?" he asked incredulously and was quite honestly pissed. Saving them was one thing, but dragging them along on the hunt? What the fuck?

"Actually, she bunked with us," Alla cut in, getting kind of tired of the back and forth between them. And why was Dean even grilling Mary about this? They honestly handled her like she was their child and not the opposite.

"And warded the room once I brought the girls back here after rescuing them from a farmhouse about twenty miles north from here," Mary filled in the rest of the story with irritation, her tone softening before continuing. "I couldn't leave them unprotected given that Koschei could still be on the prowl."

Dean drew his mom to the side after giving Alla a grouchy look for meddling in their conversation and trying to keep his voice low to have some semblance of privacy. "You could have just sent them home wherever they live. Clearly, this motel room isn't their home!"

"Does Ivy look like she is in any state to travel? She has been ill since yesterday," the female hunter asserted. Why does she have to defend her decisions to them?

"You know whispering isn't one of your strong suits. If you have a problem with us, just book another room and go on your merry way," Alla commented dryly, her arms crossed over her chest as she stared sharply at Dean.

Seeing her expression, Sam tried to disguise a low chuckle as a cough, imagining that his face must look something similar when he was unhappy with Dean.

"Dean, had I separated from them, would you have spotted that curse on her? No. So stop fussing," Mary reasoned, with a calming hand on her son's shoulder.

Dean rubbed his face in frustration.

They were not getting it.

"I… I just don't want to put them in danger, okay? Haven't they been through enough? We have never done a spell of this kind before. We don't know what Sam will be facing over there!" he expressed his concerns, his voice noticeably less offensive and more on the concerned side.

Alla's stance softened at that. They were the good guys, she saw that. Just hardened by the tragedies witnessed on the job for years, and probably the memories of people they lost too.

"Dean, it's going to be okay. It's just a portal. I jump in, kill a freaking rabbit and a duck, and I'm coming right back," the younger hunter insisted, wishing a little that Dean would stop being so overprotective. This wasn't a suicide mission.

"Unless you need to smash the egg against Kostiy's forehead to kill him, then you need to hunt him down too," Alla remarked absentmindedly.

Sam gave her small smile, sort of shy but mostly amused by the fact that she had just as much trivia in her head as he himself did. Also, the way she was unable to stop herself from blurting them out when they applied either.

"What if Koshchei, or whatever his friggin' name is, shows up on the island to defend his ridiculous treasure chest?" Dean worried some more, but he had a valid point.

Sam just kind of shrugged his shoulders with a long-suffering sigh. Then he would deal with it. Not like they had any other options.


	5. Pull the trigger

**Chapter 5 – Pull the trigger**

 _Rihanna – Russian Roulette_

* * *

Sam and Dean busied themselves with setting up the ingredients of the spell, drawing the symbols and placing a bowl on the table, while Alla took Ivy to take a quick shower and change in the bathroom. The Ukrainian girl tried telling Mary to leave the vomit alone that she would be out in a second to clean it up, but the other blonde was adamant and just shooed them off.

The boys didn't know what to make of that dynamic. Mary always seemed so cold and distant with them, even though they were her sons. Yet, with those two, she got along just fine. Maybe it was a gender thing, or she didn't have previously conceived notions about the girls, having only just met them. In either case, it left Sam and Dean just a tiny bit bitter and maybe even jealous.

Dean wanted to get his snark out about it so badly, but they had a task at hand, so he kept his mouth shut. They couldn't afford to be distracted by emotions and mommy issues. Or daddy issues for that matter. In a sense, Mary was just like John, which made this whole situation even more jarring. The hunt was the most important thing. First priority. The driving forces might have been different. Their dad was fueled by a need for revenge and Mary… well, they didn't know what her motivation was. Given how she interacted with Ivy and Alla right now, they assumed she found some sort of satisfaction in saving lives. But the exhibited behavior was just about the same. Minus a few bottles of Jack. The hunt in itself was probably the coping mechanism for her.

And besides, the chick flick moment that was sure to follow wasn't appealing to Dean either, so another reason to just not talk about it. The bottom line was, they just wished she could show the same level of compassion for them too.

"How is it going?" Mary suddenly appeared between the two of them, a gentle hand on either of their forearms, as if she instinctively felt that they needed some sort of physical comfort or show of affection, or else they would combust on sight.

She tried. She genuinely tried to be there for them. She just needed to sort out herself and her relation to the world first before interacting on a deeper level with her boys, and possibly dumping her own issues and drama on them. They had enough on their plates already. Taking care of their mother's state of mind was definitely not a responsibility she wanted to add to that pile.

"We are just about ready," Dean remarked, a bit surprised by her, but not missing a beat in sprinkling the next ingredient into the bowl.

As if right on cue, the door to the bathroom behind them opened, the two girls emerging. Alla first got Ivy situated on the side of the bed that wasn't assaulted by her stomach contents, using the wet towel on the face trick again to make her more comfortable before joining the hunters. She wanted to observe but stood a little bit away from their group at the table, not wanting to intrude. But damn this was fascinating!

"It's so weird to think these symbols are actually magical. You can see them in the embroidery patterns of traditional Ukrainian clothing, or like crochets and wall carpets everywhere," Alla remarked as she noted the geometric and squiggly line arrangements, strategically drawn with chalk across the desk based on the instructions in the book Dean was holding. The designs reminded her of Vyshyvankas – the national costume shirts in Ukraine – that lacked the commonly found flowery aesthetic.

"Yeah, well, really it's the combination of all this other stuff and the verbal spell in the book that really makes it work," Sam explained, contemplating something for a second. "But I guess some of the symbols could have protective meaning or qualities, hence the integration of them into clothes and household items in folk tradition."

"That makes sense," Alla agreed, flashing the tall guy a smile, being gently surprised when she got one of his in return. Talking with him seemed so effortless, their minds thinking alike.

"Okay, here comes the fun part, Sammy," Dean sighed bitterly as he double checked and made sure that everything else was already added, giving a knife to his brother.

"You guys might want to step back, we aren't exactly sure how this is going to work," the younger Winchester suggested, holding up the blade to his left forearm exposed by the rolled up plaid shirt sleeves.

Alla's mind switched to autopilot the instant he moved to perform the act of cutting himself. She was by Sam's side and yanking his arm away from the sharp edge before it could have touched his skin, without even consciously realizing what she was doing. Since he wasn't expecting her jerking him around and thus not putting up any resistance, it was a relatively easy thing to do despite the apparent off-balance in strength between them to his favor. The evidence of that was unmistakably present under her fingertips in the form of very well defined and stone hard muscles.

"What the hell are you doing?" the blond girl exclaimed, disbelief and outrage being the prominent emotions warring in her, but underneath that, the beginnings of a panic attack started stirring.

Somehow just keeping her hold on his arm and feeling his body warmth anchored her somewhat in that regard.

"Uhm, you know blood sacrifice? For the spell?" Sam looked at her with confusion. He thought she knew what was involved. But for whatever it was worth, he couldn't ignore her or dismiss the intensity with which she was looking at him. Something about this was greatly upsetting her, he just didn't understand what it was yet.

"How much is needed for this damned thing? Did you even check?" she asked, glancing between him and his brother accusingly.

Dean moved beside them, picking up the book like it was offending him somehow, directing his frustrations towards the inanimate object. This was why he didn't want the girls here. A civilian was butting in again, into something she had no idea about. Blood was blood, end of story. You cut, you bleed, it will heal. No need to be squeamish about it.

"Doesn't specify," he barked gruffly, slamming the thing shut for effect, knowing that they had a placeholder set on the appropriate pages since they still had to recite the spell.

"You are working from a translation, right? Does the book have the original text as well?" the Ukrainian girl inquired, daring to assume that the Slavic folklore was initially recorded in one of the Slavic languages. Even if it were Slovakian or Polish, she would probably still be able to understand it, even though those utilized the Latin alphabet with some modifications.

"Yeah, but it's in Cyrillic," the older hunter huffed indignantly. Bingo. Ukrainian. Or Russian most likely. Both of which she spoke on a native level language knowledge.

"Give me that," Alla shot him a condemning look as she grabbed the book from him. It took Dean a second to realize that she would be able to read that. Why hadn't he thought of this already?

The blonde quickly scanned the text, trying to find the right passage. "Namek na yego sushchnost', a hint of his essence. That's like a euphemism for a drop of blood, a few at the very most. Pricking your finger should be more than enough. Much less painful, plus heals easier and faster."

Alla gave the book meekly back to Dean, bolting from the group of hunters before they could berate her for her pushiness. Standing by the window and staring at the parking lot seemed like the best option at the moment. Why couldn't she just keep her mouth shut? He wasn't trying to hurt himself. Well, he did, but not for the sake of pain. It wasn't self-harming behavior. She didn't have issues with blood either. Then why? Why was it so important that she stop him from making a gash across his forearm? She had known the guys for precisely an hour. Why did she care so much?

Truth be told, had it been a totally random stranger on the street, cutting themselves, she would have had the same reaction, no matter the context. It was hitting too close to home. She might not have acted on it so directly. Generally, it wasn't a good policy to walk up to possibly deranged strangers with knives in their hands. At the very least she would have called emergency services for them.

She only realized that she had regressed to her past – and supposedly long banished – habits of nail-biting as a form of stress-relief when Sam addressed her a few seconds later. The girl was so distracted by her whirling thoughts that she totally missed whether they had managed to have another one of their silent conversations or had actually discussed something among themselves regarding her.

"Do you want to read out the spell? Just to make sure we don't mess up anything? Your pronunciation is much better than ours," he offered kindly, looking at her with concern. Apparently, they had not had a family meeting after all because for a moment Dean seemed to be taken aback by the idea. Though to his credit, he did not say anything about involving her further.

Again, she felt like the taller brother saw right through her defenses and just the thought of that almost sent her into tears. She didn't want him to see just how messed up she was. But instead of letting those emotions take over, she took a deep breath and calmed herself. She refused to cry in front of them. "Sure."

She walked back to the table, ignoring Mary's condoling half-smile and Dean's furrowed brows as she took the lore book back into her hands, noting that Sam had already donated a drop of his blood to the concoction.

"Tainstvennyy ostrov v okeane, otkroyte svoi vorota, ya ishchu vkhod v Buyan," the blonde read aloud from the original text, making sure she enunciated each syllable with perfect clarity.

Alla couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes at the straightforwardness of the spell. It literally meant "Mysterious island in the ocean, open your gates for I seek entrance to Buyan." She expected something more poetic, rhyming or if nothing else more… well… mysterious, as the tin implied.

For a few seconds, nothing happened, and the girl wondered if the spell would only work if Sam uttered the actual words since he was the one seeking entrance, but then the wall across from them shimmered, and a set of double doors appeared.

The Ukrainian girl was transfixed by them. Somewhere deep inside, she had still been a bit skeptical about the existence of magic. Generally speaking, she had a very scientific approach to everything, she only believed what she could see with her own two eyes. That also meant that when given tangible proof, she had no choice but to accept it. She had just opened a freaking portal to a mythical island!

"Okay, remember, green oak-tree, iron chest, don't let the hare escape, shoot the duck before it flies away, bring back the egg so we can smash this son of a bitch," Dean reiterated, giving possibly the worst pep talk in the history of pep talks.

"I know," Sam shot him an exasperated bitchface. He hated when his brother did that. It was like Dean didn't trust him or his skills, even though Sam suspected he just worried, trying forever to be the protector.

"Sam?" Alla spoke up, feeling the need to say something to send the guy off with.

"Yeah?" the younger Winchester turned to her expectantly, curious as to what she wanted to say.

"Be careful and don't take unnecessary risks," she requested, genuinely wishing for him to return safe and sound.

He didn't reply, just gave her a lopsided smile. _Smug fucker._ He was totally not going to hold himself to that. On some level that infuriated her. _Why wouldn't anyone listen to her for once?_ But at least he wasn't giving her false promises. She appreciated the honesty. Why he seemed so damned pleased with her showing concern for him, she didn't know though.

"Good luck," Mary chimed in, unsure if the encouragement was welcome from her.

Sam nodded to her seriously before quickly picking up the duffel with his weapons and supplies they had prepared earlier before opening the door and stepped through into the impossibly green fields on the other side. Alla swore she saw a castle in the distance.

He tried leaving it open, but the gate closed with a loud bang the moment his hand released the handle. _At least the passageway way didn't disappear altogether_ , Alla thought, trying to remain positive.

Dean, on the other hand, wasn't so graceful in handling the situation. He strutted up to the door with a purpose, yanking it open, only to find the nauseatingly flowery pattern of the wallpaper there.

"The spell did say it only lets the person giving the blood sacrifice through," Mary tried to explain the phenomenon in a way that would lessen Dean's worry. Tough order.

The older Winchester shut the door with frustration, running his hand down his face. The intensity of his uneasiness affected Alla, she couldn't help but start feeling anxious too.

That added to the emotional turmoil left over from the cutting incident sent her into a tailspin. The feeling of being trapped in this tiny motel room with three other people was suffocating her. There was no space, no air, and she just needed to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. Just away from people who could judge her or tell her how she did something wrong again.

She tried to calm herself, her eyes darting around for some sort of temporary solution since rationally she knew that going outside at night might be potentially dangerous if Kostiy decided to come back for her. Honestly, the fact that she was limited in her options in this way just made it even worse. The only place within these parameters where she could be by herself was the bathroom, and that was certainly not going to help at the moment. For one it was an even tinier space, second, she had tried cutting her wrist in a bathroom back then. It was all just too triggering.

"I really need a walk," she declared, hoping they would deduce or guess based on her agitated pacing that she was just about at her wits end here.

"No. It's not safe," Dean dismissed her, without so much as a glance in her direction, buried in his own thoughts and pacing to pass the time until Sam returned.

"I'll go with you," Mary offered instantly, seeing the level of her desperation as clear as day. At this point, Alla was willing to compromise as long as they didn't have to talk.

"No way. You are a potential target, I'm not letting you two out there," the older brother snapped.

"I'm capable of defending myself, Dean," she sighed, tired of the condescending attitude she had been shown from the moment she had called them.

"Yes, I know, but this thing wants wives. And you are… were married. Let's not risk it," her older son pleaded with her, and even though she didn't fully agree, she gave in. They could have this discussion at another time. Clearly, he had enough to worry about right now. The hunter turned to the other blonde. "Come on, let's get this over with, kiddo."

Alla shot him a grateful glance, all but sprinting out the door once he opened it for her. She hadn't even grabbed a jacket or anything, dressed in just slip pants and a T-shirt. At least she had her sneakers on. Though in her current state of mind she might have gone barefoot without even realizing.

"Hey, whoa, wait up," Dean hurried his steps to catch up to the girl who was practically power walking right past the Impala that was parked in front of the room, and rounding the corner towards the beach.

 _Open spaces. Right._

The path down to the shore was just across the street and another row of houses and inns. A few steps after Alla reached the sand strip, she managed to nearly trip over herself in an ungraceful flop as her shoes awkwardly sunk in the heaps of dry soil, prompting her to quickly slip her sneakers off and carry them in her hands.

The moment the small caressing waves hit her toes she instantly felt calm. She closed her eyes, just trying to focus on the way the breeze felt on her skin, the murmur of the ocean lulling her scattered mind.

Dean didn't push her to talk, just kept watch of their surroundings, occasionally casting a glance at the girl, trying to figure out what was upsetting her so badly.

On one such instance, he noticed a small colorful tattoo on her left wrist. Interesting place to put one, given that area had one of the most sensitive patches of skin on the human body.

"Sorry for overreacting," Alla said after a long while, her gaze lost somewhere on the horizon. The stars were visible again, and she immersed herself in their beauty.

"Well, Sam not having another gash on his arm is a good thing," Dean remarked, but that's all he had to offer in terms of comfort.

And it wasn't reassuring at all. Just how many scars had been inflicted on them in fights with monsters, or caused by themselves for another one of these spells?

The older Winchester realized he must have said the wrong thing when he noticed her almost tearfully pained eyes on him. _Why wouldn't that be a good thing?_... Oh… right, the fact that he has a bunch of others.

"It's part of the job, sweetcheeks," he shrugged, breaking their gaze in favor of taking a look around again for signs of trouble. Damn, he hated these open spaces. No place to take cover, hard to plan for defensively.

Alla snorted in disapproval but decided to keep her mouth shut.

"Someone you know have a habit of hurting themselves?" Dean asked suddenly on a whim and almost hit the mark dead center.

"That's not… I don't really want to talk about this with you. No offense, but I hardly know you," honestly she just didn't want him judging her.

Many people had the opinion that suicide was a cop out or the cowardly, selfish thing to do. Those people probably had never felt the endless sea of hopelessness. That didn't mean Alla thought suicide was okay in general, she just understood why people might feel there's no other option to free themselves from the pain they were feeling.

She did indeed have felt like she had been a coward back then countless times since escaping, probably fueled by the judgment she received from others. Not something she needed a reminder of right now.

The hunter just held his palms up in surrender. _Hey, he wasn't gonna push._ This was already getting a bit too touchy-feely with emotions for his tastes.

The blonde girl glanced at the length of the beach, deciding that she might as well do what she came here to do. Walk.

"I hate feeling trapped," Alla blurted out a little while and a few odd steps later as she waded the shallow water while Dean remained where he could stay dry.

"Claustrophobic?" Dean guessed.

"No… it's more about being limited in my options, not having the luxury to decide for myself. Like knowing exactly what you want or where you want to be, or maybe just having the certainty of where you don't want to be, but having no means to get out of the situation because of all the constraints of society, obligations, financial situation… someone else's will…" she tried to explain this feeling inside her. The truth was that she had felt restricted in one way or another for as long as she could remember, but there were times when it seemed true tenfold. Like her time with the cult.

Dean snorted. _Ain't that the truth, girl._ The story of his life, going against destiny and scripts made in Heaven for his role in the Apocalypse he absolutely did not intend to abide by. Team Free Will all the way. "I hear ya."

Alla was pleasantly surprised by his empathy. A gust of wind swept past them from the gulf, making the girl shiver a bit. It was about sixty degrees out, so not particularly chilly, but she was in just a T-shirt.

"Let's head back in. I want to see if Sam has returned from La La Land yet," he shrugged his jacket and plaid off, offering the latter to the girl for warmth. The former was full of weapons and bullets he did not want her to get her hands into so he shrugged that back on.

The Ukrainian girl shot him a confused glance, not really understanding the sudden gentlemanliness or how that metaphor applied to the situation. Wasn't that like a nickname for Los Angeles? Though some believed Hollywood was out of touch with reality, focusing on dreams, fantasies or frivolous endeavors. Mystical islands sure constituted as being removed from reality.

As they reached the paved sidewalk, Alla was presented with another problem. Sand was pasted to her up all the way up to the middle of her calves, and she didn't want to stick her feet back in her sneakers like this. No matter how hard she tried, she just wasn't able to brush it all off. Dean got impatient after a while and picked her right up, throwing her over his shoulder as she yelped indignantly.

"Hey! Put me down!" the girl cried out, wanting to slap him on his back for emphasis, but refrained from doing so. Don't poke the sleeping lion, she'd always been told.

"Not a chance," he huffed as he started walking back towards the motel.

"This isn't funny!" Alla complained, trying not to get nauseated from the pressure on her abdomen and being jostled around with every step.

"Just as the broken glass everywhere isn't either," Dean retorted flatly.

 _Okay. He had a point._

"Damn, you are so confusing sometimes. I thought you hated me, why get all concerned with my well-being all of a sudden?" she asked as they reached the corner, trying to prop herself up a bit with her hand on his other shoulder.

"Never said I hated you," the hunter grunted, keeping his gaze forward.

"Dislike, distrust, be annoyed by. Take your pick," the blonde rephrased, genuinely interested in the reason behind his sudden change of heart about her.

"That's not…" Dean sighed. That's not what his attitude was about.

"And stop staring at my ass!" Alla quipped to change the subject when he didn't continue. He had a hard time expressing emotions that much was evident to her.

"I'm not looking at your…" he involuntarily glanced to his left shoulder that he had her on before craning his neck to his right to be able to look at her face, finding that she was smirking, barely containing a laugh. He had been had. "Haha. Very funny."

* * *

Upon returning, Dean was disappointed to find that no, Sam was definitely not back yet. It had been more than an hour now since he stepped through that portal. He must have run into trouble because how freaking long could it take to find a damned tree and kill a bunny plus an errant fowl otherwise?

More surprising though was that Ivy was up and about, given that she hadn't been able to leave the bed for two days now. She was sitting in one of the chairs at the table, eating some crackers.

What were the odds of her unexpected recovery happening when Alla was separated from her? Something was fishy about this. Seeing the sick girl brought whatever hocus-pocus had been put on her back into focus in Dean's mind, which was perfect because the only way he knew how to deal with Sam's absence was occupying himself with a case. He gave his phone to Alla with the camera app opened already.

"Take a pic of that 'birthmark', will you? I'll try to get some intel on what the hell it is doing to her," he instructed the blonde, not wanting to upset the other girl's stomach with his "musk", just in case it was his absence that allowed Ivy to have some reprieve after all.

What they hadn't taken into consideration was that Alla had been wearing his shirt earlier and had his cologne all over her anyway. So, when she approached Ivy, the brunette was bombarded with a cloud of fragrance just the same, which instantly dialed up the knob on her migraine to unbearable levels. Alla noticed that something was wrong and stepped back before anything worse happened. Ivy had the bin in close proximity, but she managed to win the war on the sickness this time.

"Give me," Mary gestured for the phone and snapped the picture without causing any more distress to the ailing girl.

"Okay, this is weird. How come you aren't making her worse, Mom? I'm pretty sure you have perfume on," Dean observed, his face hard set. He really wanted to hurt whoever was messing with the brunette, because he was starting to get the feeling that everything was connected. He just didn't know how yet.

"You are right, I do…" the female hunter came to the same realization, handing back the cell to Dean.

"Do you think my illness has something to do with the curse?" Ivy inquired. She couldn't help but hope that it was because that would mean that figuring this blasted hex out would solve a whole lot of other issues in her life too.

"I don't know, but we have to get to the bottom of this fast. I'm gonna go make some calls," the older Winchester stated, his words directed almost like a promise to Ivy.

Without further ado he left the room again, leaving Mary to reapply the salt line.

"I'm going to take a shower," Alla declared, gathering her supplies and grabbing her last set of clean clothes from her bag. As she disappeared into the bathroom, she hoped that the only reason Ivy reacted to her badly was Dean's cologne on her and that she could get that off of herself.

Ivy sighed, pushing herself up from the chair and feebly made it back to bed, where she promptly buried herself under the blankets. This whole situation was so messed up. _Who was doing this to her?_

Mary was watching Dean talk on the phone with someone by the boot of the Impala, when suddenly a middle-aged, slightly stocky, dark-haired man, clad in a black suit appeared out of thin air in front of him, proceeding to seemingly exchange… _pleasantries_ with her son?

 _Son of a bitch! That's a demon!_

She grabbed a sawed-off as a backup weapon and quickly loaded her handgun with devil's trap bullets, then was out the door in a matter of seconds.

"Step away from him, demon," Mary ordered calmly, her firearm aimed at the head of the vile thing.

"Oh, lookie, who do we have here?" the man cocked his head to the side looking at the blonde, amusement ringing in every syllable he spoke.

"Calm down, I called him," he told Mary, pointedly refusing to reveal her name or relation to himself in front of the King of Hell. No need to say, she didn't lower her gun. "Hey! Attention back here, Crowley. What can you tell me about this curse?"

"Ah, you are no fun," Crowley tutted with a sneer but focused back on the image shown to him on the screen anyway. "Nasty piece of work that one. I'm not quite sure of all the details, but it's designed to assert some sort of control over the poor gopher it's placed on. Certainly has elements that imply there's a backfiring effect if they go against the wishes of the person holding power over this mark."

"Can you tell who cast the spell or is holding the mark? Or how it can be broken?" Dean asked frantically.

"Sorry to cut this little chat short as amusing as it has been, but that's all I have for you, Squirrel," the demon barbed, casting an unsettling smirk at Mary with his eyes flashing red before vanishing into thin air.

" _Dammit,_ " the older brother cursed, his whole body lurching with the force of his frustration.

Mary reluctantly let her gun fall to her thigh now that the danger seemed to have passed. She was brimming with anger for her son.

"What the hell, Dean?" she chided. He should have known better than calling demons for help. Those always came with strings attached.

"Don't worry, we've worked with him before. Self-serving bastard, but he has no reason to lie about this. Plus kept it need to know, of course," Dean skirted the answer, but was looking appropriately apologetic for the stunt.

"Right. You have a long-standing working relationship with a crossroads demon, and I'm supposed to not worry. Try again," Mary remarked sharply, taking the angry mama stance with those guns in her hands to a whole new level.

"Well… he is actually the King of Hell," the older Winchester revealed sheepishly.

"That's supposed to make me feel better how?" she bristled.

"Let's just go back inside," Dean ushered her towards the safety of their warded temporary headquarters.

Alla was back out of the shower, her long hair dripping water generously on her shoulder and back. Both girls turned to the hunters with curious glances as they entered, trying to guess what all the tension in the air was all about. But neither offered an explanation.

"I'm going to grab some grub, any requests?" Dean diverted, desperate to escape Mary's disappointed and furious glances.

Alla and Ivy shook their heads.

"I'm coming with," the female hunter declared, apparently not trusting Dean to not call this Crowley character back for more information. She had a feeling her presence might have affected the outcome earlier, but she was not willing to let Dean take another shot at this.

So much for that plan, the older Winchester internally groaned, but sighed with a nod anyway, beckoning her to head out as he grabbed the keys.

"You know the drill, Alla," Mary turned back to the other blonde.

"Yup," she quipped with an amused smile. She had already memorized everything the first time it had been shown to her. There was no need to remind her. Lock. Salt. Knock. Silver. Holy water. Though she was starting to get the feeling that all this was a bit excessive at this point. There was no reason to expect an attack currently, and those two would surely keep each other out of trouble until they got back.


	6. Sing a song confessional

**Chapter 6 – Sing a song confessional**

 _Joel Plaskett – In Need of Medical Attention_

* * *

Ivy managed to drift off again into some much-needed sleep, even if practically that's all she had been doing for the past forty-eight hours. She really didn't wish to relinquish her consciousness again. Had it been up to her, she would have pushed through by sheer force of will. She wanted to be able to at least witness what was going on around her if not participate, but the fog on her mind was so thick that she just had no chance of fighting against it.

Alla's anxiety about her friend's condition amped up a notch every time the brunette whimpered or furrowed her brows in her sleep. Something just didn't sit right with the blonde about this whole thing. Nothing Ivy ever described regarding this illness compared to what she was experiencing now. Her sleep was so deep sometimes that not even all the ruckus the rest of them were making could stir her.

Although a lot had happened that could possibly explain why the girl was feeling so rotten, Alla just couldn't shake this feeling that Dean was right. This was no coincidence. It had to be somehow connected to the curse mark on her shoulder, and Alla would bet all her earthly possessions on the theory that Aaron had something to do with it.

Before she could work herself up further with fury towards the man she barely knew, the doors to Buyan burst open.

Sam rushed through in a hurry, slamming them shut behind him with a look on his face that would have been comical, had he not just come back from a possibly dangerous mission. He looked alarmed, eyes wide, though seemingly not fearing for his life. Not currently at least. Just who had been chasing him?

"Quick, break the chalk lines on the desk!" he frantically beckoned the blonde with his head, bracing against the portal as if expecting something to break through if he didn't hold on.

Alla rushed over from her position on the bed and did as she was asked to. The moment the first symbol was erased, the wooden gate shimmered out of existence, followed by a relieved sigh from the tall guy. The tension left Sam's shoulders as he leaned back against the wall, his hands on his knees to support himself, bending down to catch his breath.

"Are you okay?" the Ukrainian girl tentatively asked as she approached the hunter.

"Yeah," he replied with a reassuring smile, straightening back up before she could start worrying. Too bad it was already too late for that. Her observation skills were sharper than he had anticipated.

"Yeah, your left shoulder surely agrees," Alla noticed how carefully he moved that arm, stepping to his side to take a better look. His jacket was torn, but because of its dark color, she couldn't tell if it was bloody or not.

"It's just a scratch," Sam insisted, glancing around in search of his brother. "Where's Dean?"

"Went to get food with Mary," she said, deciding not to mention the glaring unease that had been present in the room before they had left, in case the other two hunters would consider her meddling unwanted.

The blonde watched Sam for a moment longer, trying to decide if it was worth cajoling him into taking that jacket off so that she could make sure he wasn't bleeding to death while they chatted the night away.

Turned out, all that excogitation wasn't necessary, he shrugged the coat off a moment later without prompting. His wounds did look superficial at first glance through the rips in the material of his bloodied shirt. They might have not even required stitches, but the Ukrainian girl was still worried about infection. Sam didn't look like the kind of guy who would willingly go to a hospital to get patched up.

"Can I at least help you clean those out?" Alla inquired, trying to seem nonchalant, and not too terribly concerned. She had a feeling Sam wouldn't do well with overbearing, and she had already given the impression of a crazy person with the way she handled the issue of the blood sacrifice. "It's just in a really awkward place where you can't see or reach it yourself."

 _What a transparent excuse!_ She kicked herself mentally when he didn't respond to her offer at once.

Sam just watched her, his face not betraying anything, making Alla want to squirm under his penetrating gaze. She had never felt so nervous around a man in her whole life before. Or as exposed as with him. And she wasn't even undressed… or inexperienced with men for that matter.

She had lost her virginity at barely past fourteen. Although she had never been into one-night stands, she did tend to jump into the physically intimate side of things fairly early on in her relationships. However long they might have lasted afterward. It was a coping mechanism for her. A means to feel some kind of connection to another human being since after the cult she had been way too damaged to open up in other areas for a long while.

The strict set of rules that had been imposed on her during that time of her life were undoubtedly a factor too. Her reality in the church had been that she wouldn't ever be able to have children. The reasoning was that kids would just take her attention away from a more significant purpose. "Saving mankind," whatever that meant.

Those who do end up getting pregnant in their lifelong servitude would be forced to have an abortion or kicked out of the church, forever disgraced and shut off from the chance to achieve "spiritual freedom." Naturally, these rules weren't imposed on all church members, just those in the inner circle. The clergy you could say. That group of people who devoted their whole lives to the church, not just their money.

They weren't sworn to celibacy. Sex was just tied to marriage as a prerequisite if you wanted to avoid getting in trouble. As a result? Many of the members who were in it since childhood married young (emancipated at sixteen), just so that they could get their freak on. Because _surely_ that was healthier than just letting people be teenagers and discover their sexuality as ordinary people…

Sex was the least of Alla's concerns while she had lived in Clearwater. But as soon as her suicide attempt had prompted them to kick her out, she had wanted to shake off the shackles of their mentality. Hence the reason why not even a year had passed before she had engaged in her first intercourse.

Of course, everything had its consequences. The blonde still cringed internally at the memory of her mom calling her a slut at sixteen, because she had more dick by the time she reached that age than her mom had in her entire life. It wasn't a feat that had been hard to achieve or surpass. The woman had been with a total of three men.

No one cared that she could have – realistically _should_ have – turned out so much worse after the trauma that she had been through. She could have been sleeping around indiscriminately, not giving a damn about protection, getting pregnant or contracting all the STIs in the world. She could have sought refuge in drugs, gotten addicted to everything that was out there so that she could dull the constant pain that marked her teens. She could have shunned her school responsibilities, dropped out even. She could have run away from home, lived on the streets.

But she did none of those, even though at times she felt infinitely overwhelmed by everything that surrounded her. Especially trying to socialize with people her own age, or letting her mom be the parent again. Though maybe blaming her troubles on those three years wasn't fair. She had been a particularly stubborn child even before that, or so she had heard.

No need to say, she never actually succeeded in fitting into the role of an average teenager. She had been living as an adult, with adult responsibilities and without the luxury of having any parental guidance since she was eleven. Reverting back and relinquishing that control to her mom had been unimaginable to her. So she never did. As a result, Alla had a strained relationship with her mom in her teenage years, and even to this day, there were things she couldn't quite forget, even if she had long forgiven her.

"Alla?" Sam was suddenly right in front of her, his huge warm hands comfortingly placed on her shoulders.

Looking up into his hazel eyes – which were searching hers with worry – she gulped, trying to compose herself.

"How about we clean those wounds?" she tried to deflect. This whole thing was so ridiculous. Getting this flustered was ridiculous. Unless Sam was a mind reader, there was no way he could tell what was really going on in that head of hers.

"What happened? You kind of spaced out on me," the younger Winchester asked, speaking softly as if the smallest thing could frighten her.

She wanted to huff or snort indignantly. She wasn't that fragile. In the end, she did neither and went with the truth instead.

"You just… make me a bit uncomfortable when you look at me like that," the blonde admitted. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Alla noted that by some work of miracle Ivy had managed to sleep through the commotion again, which was comforting in the sense that the blonde could avoid having witnesses to her blabbering.

"Like how?" Sam inquired curiously, but he seemed just a bit too amused by hearing her confession.

"Like you… I know it sounds silly… as if you are undressing my soul," the Ukrainian girl blurted out, averting her gaze from the intensity of his, but from the corner of her eye, she could see his mouth quiver slightly with the smile he was repressing. Whether he was laughing at her or was feeling embarrassed for being caught red-handed, meaning her accusation was spot on, she didn't know.

Sam suddenly released her, reaching back and pulling his plaid shirt over his head with a swift motion without even unbuttoning it, revealing a ribbed tank top undershirt. "I guess it's only fair then if I undress too," he said with a shy smirk.

 _Bastard._ He had to know what he was doing. Good thing this was much less distracting than the emotional vulnerability his eyes brought forth when he was studying her reactions. Deltoids and biceps muscles she could ignore. It was just flesh. Even if deliciously eye-catching flesh. Although there was a segment of a tattoo depicting a pentagram encased in a sun pictogram just below his collarbone visible now that caught her attention. Mhm. Interesting.

"I presume you are letting me take a peek at your injuries then," Alla stated boldly, looking back straight into his eyes.

The small huff and eye roll with the accompanying smile that followed was about as clear a signal as shouting his capitulation and waving a white flag would have been. He walked around her to get to their bags in the corner and fished the med kit out.

"Just cleaning. Dean would kill you and me both if I let anyone else stitch me up," he said as he held the box out to the blonde, humor lurking in his eyes, even though Alla suspected the last bit of that statement was the truth and not just hyperbole.

"Do I look like I went to medical school and know how to stitch up wounds? The most you'll get out of me is sewing your buttons back in place," the Ukrainian girl rebuked, one of her brows quirked challengingly.

That one made Sam laugh out loud with his head thrown back. Honestly, his reaction was just as rewarding as making Ivy smile, if not more. He instantly looked about five years younger, and even more attractive as the tension from the constant vigilance and worry left his face, replaced by dimples on his cheeks and laugh lines around his eyes.

 _Those freaking dimples…_

"Plus you might not even need stitches, but I guess deciding that is up to Dean too," she added thoughtfully as she led Sam into the bathroom. By his hand nonetheless.

* * *

Okay, he probably did need stitches.

There were four, approximately three inch long gashes of varying severity across his left shoulder. The middle two were giving Alla some pause whether the butterfly bandages in the kit would be enough to hold them, but neither of them seemed like they tore muscle or anything, mostly stopped bleeding already too.

Considering the kinds of injuries the Ukrainian girl assumed the hunters were used to dealing with, she had the feeling that indeed these were mere scratches in their eyes as Sam had stated earlier.

"What happened?" she asked as she wet a clean towel with warm water, while Sam sat down on the edge of the tub with his shoulder angled towards the sink so that they would avoid making a bloody mess of everything around them.

"Koschei decided to drop by and check out who was messing with his treasure chest," the hunter revealed in an indifferent tone.

Given the claws that monster had, Sam had gotten off easy. Alla didn't even want to imagine how else this could have played out.

"Figured. Did you manage to smash the egg against its forehead?" the blonde inquired, keeping his thoughts occupied while she started carefully dabbing the dried blood off of his skin. He didn't even flinch. His pain threshold had to be really high because she certainly wasn't this good or delicate.

"Yeah, he froze the moment I had the egg, so it was a piece of cake from there. The prelude – involving running around like a madman to dodge his attacks while trying to not lose my grip on a squirming rabbit or duck – was less than fun though," he snorted darkly.

In hindsight, he imagined it might have looked a bit cartoonish, or even funny from an outside perspective. Dean might have even laughed at him, had he been there. In the midst of the situation, it was anything but pleasant. A warning about the immortal creature's close resemblance to the White Walkers would have been nice too! The Game of Thrones imagery had almost given him a heart attack when he first spotted the monster. The picture in the lore book definitely didn't do it justice.

"What was chasing you when you were coming through the portal then?" the Ukrainian girl asked suddenly. Koschei was dead… so who had him running for the hills? Quite literally since their magical passageway was on the top of a slope on the other side.

"Ah," Sam smiled self-consciously. "Well, it so happens that killing the big baddy of the Slavic bunch earns you an instant reputation. The two Zoryas were trying to hire me to find their sister for them. They didn't really understand the concept of no."

Alla chuckled and had to stop her ministrations to press her knuckles to her mouth to keep herself from actually giggling.

"What?" he glanced at her in confusion.

"Nothing, just the image of you sprinting away from two beautiful women with a look of horror on your face popped into my mind. Seems like something only you would do," the blonde explained, looking for a disinfectant in the kit since she deemed the injured area clean enough now, but unfortunately there was none in there. If you didn't count a bottle of Jack as a disinfectant that is.

"Yeah, just don't tell Dean. I would never hear the end of it," the younger Winchester snorted as well, appreciating her sense of humor, especially since essentially that was precisely what had happened.

Except these were pagan goddesses. Sam had enough first-hand experience under his belt to know that beneath the seemingly innocent and gorgeous appearance these creatures could be nasty, and he just didn't want to get in the middle of it. Even if the problem was intriguing.

While researching Buyan, he had come across the Zoryas being mentioned as residents of the mythical island. Some legends talk of three guardian goddesses, while other accounts omit one – and always the same one. The third sister's absence could affect the oral tradition, provided a significant amount of time had passed for humans to notice. The researcher in him would have loved to find out what happened to her.

As if right on cue, the secret knock rapped against the door, followed by keys rattling and the unlocking of the door.

"I guess they are back," Alla commented absentmindedly.

"Yeah, speak of the devil," Sam huffed with a laugh. Typical Dean, showing up for the punchline.

Dean's boots thudded against the carpet, and he must have noticed the distinct absence of the extra set of doors in the room because a second later his agitated inquiry rumbled through the small space. "Sammy?"

"In here, Dean," the younger Winchester called out, rolling his eyes as he heard him practically dashing to the bathroom.

The door swung open, banging against the tiled wall. Dean's eyes locked in on the wounds on his brother's shoulder. Glancing briefly at the bloodied towel in Alla's hand, his eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Why didn't you call me?" he grunted as he stomped over to them, all but pushing Alla out of the way as he took over. Without a thank you, sorry, a nod or anything.

Way to make someone feel unwelcome, but the blonde could take a hint. Sam did allude to Dean's overprotectiveness, so she refrained from saying anything, just shuffled out of the room without looking back. Unfortunately, that also meant that she didn't notice Sam's apologetic eyes on her.

"Everything alright in there?" Mary asked worriedly, startling the Ukrainian girl as she came out.

"Yeah, Sam said it's just a scratch," she said, a bit preoccupied with finding something to focus her nervous energy on. _What should I do?_

Well for one, the room was way too overcrowded between the five of them. That one she could easily fix. She strutted over to her and Ivy's bags, packing as much up as she could so it would be easier to carry over to their new room.

"What are you doing?" Mary watched her perplexedly.

"Well, we can't all sleep here, obviously," Alla explained, not even glancing up.

"That doesn't mean you have to move. Dean already booked the room next door," she pointed out. That's what they had been up to – besides getting food, which was incidentally sitting on the table now, ready to be consumed. Prepping the other place with all the warding sigils took up the brunt of the time they were away.

The girl quickly considered her options. The boys were going to be in the bathroom for a while in her opinion, and she really didn't want to get in the middle of their family drama or find herself on the receiving end of Dean's anger.

"I really want to turn in for the night, and I think Ivy could use a break from the smell of cologne too, so we are going to take that room if you don't mind," Alla explained, hoping that her friend won't object to being woken from her slumber.

Curse or no curse, they didn't really have a confirmation on what was causing the brunette's symptoms, and until then the previously tested and used precautions wouldn't hurt.

"Fine. Give me those, you take care of Ivy," Mary relented, holding her hand out for the three bags.

"Thanks," she said sincerely, going over to wake Ivy and quickly explaining to her what was going on.

With two roundtrips they got the beddings switched as well so everyone could sleep in their own ones, or in the case of the brothers in freshly laundered sheets. Sam and Dean hadn't emerged yet by the time Alla and Mary finished, so the Ukrainian girl assumed those stitches were needed after all. She hoped Dean wasn't too hard on his brother.

After getting Ivy back in bed, bidding Mary goodnight and pouring the salt along the door crack as per instruction, Alla sighed. Honestly, she was too wired to sleep. Nonetheless, she changed into her sleepwear and climbed into bed, just to stare at the ceiling afterward. What was she doing? What was going on between her and Sam? Was there any point to anything that might evolve from it?

She wasn't able to delve too far into her thoughts because a softer version of the Winchester family knock came from the door. Alla frowned. Mary had surely explained to them what was going on. Which one of the boys thought it was a good idea to wake her up?

Okay, she hadn't been sleeping yet. But they were under the assumption that she was, or at least well on her way there.

The blond girl clambered out of bed anyway, quickly checking through the blinds to see who was there. It was Sam, looking all angsty and conflicted. She would never be able to say no that face, she was already sure of it. By the time she got the door unlatched, he was turning to return to their room, having given up on her coming out.

"Hey, what's going on?" Alla asked, leaning against the doorframe. The fact that she usually slept in leggings and overly large T-shirts instead of scanty gowns or shorts with spaghetti tops as pajamas was a blessing now that his eyes were roaming her body. The blonde wasn't particularly fond of showing off her skin.

"Uhm, Dean said we are heading out early tomorrow morning. He set up a meeting in Kansas for the evening on the day after tomorrow. We are hoping that'll give us some answers regarding Ivy's curse. It would probably be better if she was present too, just in case we can reverse it right then and there, instead of having to find you guys again," he relayed the information, seeming nervous about something, though Alla couldn't tell what.

"Yeah, sure, we are going. I don't think Ivy would have any objections to that plan either," she said without hesitation.

Sam sighed with audible relief.

"We want this thing off as much as you do," the Ukrainian girl elaborated, not understanding why he would think they wouldn't cooperate.

"I just wasn't sure you guys were a package deal," Sam explained, hinting that it was her he was glad for tagging along with them.

"I came to the States to spend time with Ivy, I don't really have anywhere else to go," the blonde stated. "Or want to for that matter."

"Yeah, makes sense," the younger Winchester deflated a little. Of course. Why would she want to have anything to do with someone like him? He could offer none of the things a normal girl would want.

Had he known just how _not_ normal she was…

"Do you want to maybe go for a walk?" Alla offered, seeing how disappointed he was with her previous answer.

"I thought you were going to bed," the hunter pointed out, with a smile ghosting his lips.

"Sleep is overrated," she shrugged.

Sam chuckled. "Let me just tell Dean to make sure he doesn't freak."

"Sure, go on. I need to find some shoes and a sweater anyway," the girl nodded, already heading back in to get dressed.

* * *

One thing Alla was sure of, she would never grow tired of the beach. The Ukrainian girl could walk on the shore hours on end without getting bored or feeling the need to stop. The nighttime sky just enhanced that feeling. She felt an inexplicable, intense pull towards the stars.

"Did Dean get on your case about my subpar first aid skills?" the blonde asked after a few minutes of them walking in silence, trying to break the ice.

"Not really, just stitched me up, followed by some generous swigs of the Jack, so I guess more got into him then on my cuts," he recounted, not at all fazed by the ramifications those statements held.

Alla stopped dead in her tracks. "Seriously? Haven't you guys heard of Betadine? Or rubbing alcohol?"

"Whiskey is multipurpose and cheaper to the ounce," Sam shrugged aloofly.

"How the hell have you guys not died of sepsis yet…" she muttered under her breath in disbelief with a shake of her head and started walking again.

The younger Winchester just sighed. These were their realities. He kind of wished he could've kept all the gory details hidden from her, having her remain in a state of ignorant bliss. Though, he supposed, that wouldn't stop her from getting hurt either. Sometimes not knowing wasn't better.

"I wasn't judging," Alla said, glancing at him in hopes of not having offended him. "It's just… you guys do so much good. I would want something better for you. At least in the conditions you work in if nothing else."

Another lull in the conversation followed, and she wondered if she had said something wrong or insensitive. Maybe he never wanted this life in the first place. Or doubted the extent of the positive impact they were having on the world.

"The Bunker is kinda nice actually. We have made it our own over the last four years," Sam divulged with a small smile. Alla could imagine they were really fond of the place.

"Is it like a fallout shelter?" the Ukrainian girl asked. Those she was familiar with. Ukraine and the rest of the former SSSR are littered with a bunch of dugouts as remnants of the Cold War.

"No, there used to be a secret organization in the US, called the Men of Letters, who were collectors of knowledge on the supernatural. It used to be their base. We have our own library, war room, and even a dungeon…"

Alla quirked her brow at the list of those apparently must have house upgrades. The fact that he was so enthusiastic about it made her smile. At least something made him happy because chopping monster heads off, however rewarding it might be on some level, didn't seem like a career choice that produced mentally well-adjusted people. Though she was one to talk… she fired people from their jobs for a living, and she hated every minute of it. Certainly not what she had in mind when she got her master's degree in human resources.

"What happened to them?" she inquired after a while, realizing that for Sam and Dean to have been able to move in, the previous owners had to go somewhere.

"Got infiltrated then wiped out by a demon in 1958," Sam surmised, opting to not go into the specifics of how they got wind of the Bunker then access to it, like meeting their time-traveling grandfather and learning that they were legacies.

"Mary said demons can possess people… is there a way to prevent that?" Alla's curiosity and hunger for knowledge were legitimately getting the better of her. She wondered if she should have maybe used this time to get to know him a little better instead of quizzing him about supernatural trivia.

"Actually there is. The tattoo you saw on my chest does just that," he revealed with a look on his face that told her he wasn't that fond of inking. She subconsciously reached for her own one, wondering if he thought less of her for having one.

Okay, maybe that question killed two birds with one stone. She could tell he took this job seriously enough to adopt the necessary precautions even if it wouldn't have been his first choice, which spoke at length of his character. She could only imagine how good he actually was at what he did.

"Maybe I should get one of those…" the girl mused out loud, wondering if that would make her a bigger target. Would demons be able to sense that she was protected against them from afar? Or only when they tried to possess her and failed?

Sam smiled at her, noticing the colorful design on her wrist. She had a tattoo of her own. "What do you have there?"

"It's a feather, in watercolor style," she said, angling her hand towards him so that he could take a better look at it. No point really in hiding it, he would have discovered it sooner or later anyway.

The hunter stayed quiet for a little while, examining it. At first glance he didn't take her for a girl who would be into tattoos, so he came to the conclusion that it must carry some sort of meaning for her. "What does it signify for you?"

"Freedom," Alla revealed, running her right thumb over the tattoo, feeling the faint bump of the scar it was covering. A reminder of the version of herself she never wanted to be again. "And also that upon destruction and pain we are given a chance to turn it around into something magnificent and beautiful."

"Is that a quote from somewhere?" Sam asked in surprise.

"If you'd like to start quoting me then for sure," the blonde laughed out, but whatever the younger Winchester saw in her eyes behind that comment made him turn somber.

"What happened?" he inquired softly.

They had been gradually drifting closer and closer as they walked side by side, and the back of Sam's hand was practically brushing against hers by now. She actually found his large frame beside her terribly comforting.

His caring presence made it impossible for her to lie or skirt around the truth. He deserved to know who he was dealing with. He deserved to see just how damaged she was before he got irreversibly tangled up with her.

"Long story short? I tried to commit suicide at thirteen," the Ukrainian girl confessed, all sense of light-heartedness gone from her demeanor.

"Because you were feeling trapped?" Sam probed further.

"How…? Never mind. Guess Dean's been talking to you after all," Alla smiled briefly. She didn't mind them talking about her, and it wasn't like she specifically asked the older Winchester not to pass on the content of their conversation. She just preferred to share it herself, so that she could witness their first reaction to it. That instant and unfiltered response was her best guide on how those people would relate to her later, it told her if she could trust them, or rely on them in any way. Remarkably few people passed that test.

"I never said we didn't talk, he just didn't bring up why I was letting you clean my injuries," the hunter clarified, feeling a bit guilty for being misleading. When the blonde didn't elaborate on the incident that drove her to such extreme measures, he prompted her. "Why were you feeling trapped?"

"Because I was in a foreign country, alone, without money. In a paramilitaristic organization that handled children like adults, making them work for practically free, fourteen hours a day, seven days a week, if you counted the one day of mandatory school too. I was surrounded by people and ideologies that wore down my defenses and self-esteem every single day for nearly three years. I felt like there was no way out of this situation, that it would never stop, but I was certain that I couldn't take another minute of it. I hit my breaking point when one of my superiors slapped me across my face and… I just snapped," the blond girl explained as best as she could, but she couldn't help but feel weak, like the problems she had faced were inconsequential in the grander scheme things. People went through so much worse all the time and still held out. Sam and Dean had probably gone through so much worse and still held out. All her reasons were invalid, none of those warranted trying to slit her own wrist.

Sam was somehow able to reach her in that downward spiral of self-hate and brought her back with a simple bear hug, holding her close to his chest.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that. I can't even begin to imagine what it must have been like," the younger Winchester murmured against her hair.

That simple sentence did it for her, and the floodgates opened. She sobbed against him, desperately holding onto the back of his jacket and just cried her heart out.

They stayed in each other's embrace for a long while, until Alla managed to calm down, only a hiccup or two reminding her of her outburst.

"Thank you," she said quietly, wiping off the last rogue tear threatening to fall from her lashes as she stepped back, trying not to feel guilty for the salty wet patch on his shirt now. She had really needed that outlet. A good old-fashioned breakdown had been due from the moment she had stepped foot in this town.

As soon as they separated, it was Sam's turn to become agitated, having had too much time to dwell on the implications of what the Ukrainian girl had told him. He paced a few steps, his hand running through his long hair as he tried to gather his thoughts.

"I can't believe some countries still allow child slavery in this day and age," the hunter fumed, outraged on her behalf. One could argue that what John had done to them was no better, raising them as soldiers, but that wasn't on the scale of a whole organization, with who knows how many children caught in the crossfire of these impossible circumstances.

"It happened here, Sam," Alla quietly confided.

"What do you mean here? The States?" his disbelief was evident, written all over him like a huge neon sign. He had seen some pretty messed up shit over the years, but he just couldn't imagine how this could fly under the radar of the authorities. In this country no less.

"That too yes, but more specifically _here_. In Clearwater, on the other side of the bay," she revealed, pointing in the direction of where she assumed the church's buildings were.

Shock bloomed on his face.

"Fuck," he swore emphatically, turning away from her and his pacing kicking up a notch in intensity. Alla just stood rooted in her place, trying to stay out of his way as he mentally worked through the bombshell she had just dropped on him. "Wait a minute… isn't that celebrity cult… what's its name… have a retreat or something near here?"

"The very same," the girl snorted darkly. Although she had been pretty confident that the hunter wouldn't be sympathizing with the cult, it was always mildly anxiety-inducing to reveal her past to someone new. So the look of recognition and horror on his face was a bit of relief.

"Son of a bitch!" Sam remembered Dean joking about Katie Holmes being abducted by an evil cult _years ago_. They should have gone and ganked them, right then and there. Maybe it could have saved Alla from having to go through all this. Though, after running a rough calculation in his head, he assumed the Ukrainian girl had to have been thirteen around '03 or '04. During the time he was blissfully prancing around at Stanford. That thought made him sick to his stomach. "I'm going to fucking kill them."

He started power walking back towards the motel, the singular purpose of jumping in the Impala and raising some hell on his mind.

"Sam. Stop. Just stop," the blonde jogged after him, halting him with her hands on his chest. "That's not going to accomplish anything, except putting you on a most wanted list. What happened to me was a long time ago, and I'm not that helpless little girl anymore. The brains and top brass of the cult are in LA or on a base near there, anyway. The people you'd find here are just as much victims of their brainwashing as I was," she tried to reason with him, even though the fact that he so fiercely tried to come to her defense was endearing. No one had ever wanted to do this for her before.

Her words did do the trick, the hunter stopped in his tracks, even though he was still conflicted about the whole thing.

"Why are you even here? Not that I'm not glad for meeting you… I just couldn't imagine wanting to be anywhere near the place that caused so much suffering for me," Sam asked a minute or two later. They still avoided Lawrence, Kansas if they could help it, even though they had returned to their hometown on more than one occasion because of a case.

"Well, this trip was supposed to have been for closure. Proving to myself that I can put everything that had happened behind me, that I would still be okay after facing this place, and – however ironic it might sound in hindsight – that nothing horrible would happen to me if I came here," Alla clarified with a big sigh. _Yeah, that turned out well._

"And instead you got kidnapped by a monster," the younger Winchester stated the facts with a huff, running his hand agitatedly through his hair again.

God, this was so messed up. He couldn't imagine how she was still holding up so well. Most folks would already have run for the hills screaming or sat in a corner staring ahead in a catatonic state. Though knowing just how cruel humans could be, the thought of supernatural beings must have been almost a relief to her. Those were at least predictable, working in well-documented patterns. People, on the other hand, were just plain crazy.

"I know, right?" she chuckled, trying to see the humor in the situation because she wasn't sure she could handle another breakdown at this moment. Seconds later a big yawn escaped her. It was getting pretty late. Not to mention crying always took a lot out of her.

"Okay, I think it's time to get you in bed," Sam suggested, knowing that they had a ton of driving ahead of themselves tomorrow. Well, technically today.

"Are you gonna join me?" Alla quipped, unable to help herself. It was too good a tease to pass up. The hunter turned red in embarrassment instantly, making her laugh out. "Just pulling your leg, don't worry. I'm sure Ivy wouldn't appreciate finding you beside me when she woke up."

The fact that it wasn't she herself who was objecting to the idea didn't evade Sam's attention, giving him butterflies in his stomach.


	7. The winds of change prevail

**Chapter 7 – The winds of change prevail**

 _Jefferson Starship – Winds Of Change_

* * *

Morning came way too soon for Alla's liking. She groaned in annoyance at her alarm for waking her from her surprisingly peaceful and nightmare-free rest.

Thankfully, getting Ivy on board with the plan Alla and Sam had discussed last night was easy-peasy. She was more than happy to spend two days in a car with guys whose cologne or whatever about their presence made her sick as a dog. As long as it meant she didn't have to go home to Aaron, and that there was a chance they could possibly find a solution to her situation. Although perhaps Mary was coming along too, and she could hitch a ride in her car…

Her aversion kicked up another notch as soon as she saw the not too friendly texts her husband had sent her during the night, inquiring "just when the fuck she was planning on getting her fat ass back home." Ivy wasn't even overweight. Okay, she wasn't a runway model, but she was light years away from _fat_.

Her reply was simple and to the point: _as soon as she was feeling up to it._ With the current standing of things that was probably closer to never than anything else.

Goes without saying, her phone blew up afterward with countless phone calls and messages containing various levels of threats and promises pertaining to the consequences of her current behavior. Ivy turned the cell off after that. She wasn't interested in any of it.

The fact that simultaneously with these events her health took another nose-dive, sending her tumbling to the floor with a wave of dizziness, confirmed their suspicions. Aaron was somehow able to deliberately express his displeasure with her through that curse mark in some pretty wicked ways. This revelation also put all her past bouts of illness into perspective.

She realized her condition probably had nothing to do with chemicals. Sure, there was a correlation between those two, but not causation. What actually made her sick, was Aaron's jealousy of the people she got to interact with if she left the house. Or something along those lines.

At least that was her working theory for now. Ivy wanted to wrangle the living daylight out of her so-called husband. She was so mad she couldn't even put it into words.

The bright side? The adrenalin rush from getting so worked up got her through the morning even though she was feeling shitty. They were out the door, all packed up and ready to go right in time for the boys and Mary to emerge from the room next door.

"All ready, Allie?" Dean asked casually, catching Alla entirely off guard with the nickname. She just stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Dude, don't butcher her name," Sam came to her defense, with a disapproving glare thrown towards his brother.

"What? It's a compliment," the older Winchester huffed indignantly. Sam didn't seem to get it, bitch-facing all the same, so he elaborated. "You know, Allie… the stereotypical attractive, smart, funny, and adorable gal everyone likes?"

"It's okay… I actually like it…" she quietly insisted, feeling self-conscious by Dean's assessment of her. Sam's head snapped to her in surprise so fast, she wondered if it gave him whiplash. She shrugged. "It's a hundred times better than getting ostracized as a Muslim fanatic for having a name so similar to their god."

"Seriously what kind of morons do that?" Dean grunted, his face contorted into a hard set of disapproval.

"I could name a few in particular… the story of my life for more than two years," the blonde muttered, not really wanting to get into it.

Sam recognized the look on her face instantly. The only other time he had seen her so profoundly hurt was when she was talking about her time in the cult last night. The urge to hunt down the fuckers that did this to her flared up in his chest again.

"C'mere," the younger brother pulled her into a sloppy side hug, making her stumble a bit, falling right against him. She fit perfectly under the crook of his arm, and just simply couldn't help but lean into the embrace.

Dean's eyebrows shot up for a second at their apparent closeness before he just shrugged. He figured, after all that late night walking on the beach – and getting their fill of chick flick moments – this was to be expected.

"You doing okay, Ivy?" he asked the other girl, whose arms were wrapped around herself in a desperate attempt at keeping herself from falling apart physically.

"No, not really," the brunette admitted, shivering slightly in the mild Florida weather – even with the thick sweater she had on.

Dean's jacket – at the moment devoid of weapons – was off, and on her shoulders, before she could even blink. Surprisingly enough, now that she was aware that his perfume had nothing to do with her adverse reactions, the automatic gag reflex and nausea she had developed over the years – in response to the slightest hints of scents hitting her nose – didn't make an appearance either.

It actually felt nice, having the man's warmth around her, so much so that she had to hold herself back from leaning into the collar or pulling the coat around herself closer to get a better whiff of his musk. She could do nothing about the look of pure pleasure that sat out on her face though. A tiny little moan might have escaped her lips too.

The older Winchester cleared his throat, just a hint of amusement flashing across his face. "We should probably head out. One of you wanna ride with us, or both of you going to follow behind us with Mary?"

"Actually, Dean…" their mom spoke up with a look of regret on her face. "I gotta say goodbye here. There's a possible shifter case up in Maine that I want to check out."

Alla could feel Sam's body tense up around her after hearing that. She glanced up before her eyes flickered to Dean, and the look of disappointment was unmistakable on both of the brothers' faces.

"Uhm, alright," the younger Winchester tersely spoke up first, avoiding eye contact with the woman at all costs. "Be careful… And stay in touch."

"Yeah. Don't be a stranger," Dean agreed with the notion, although the reluctance to let Mary go was evident in his voice. He stepped up to her to hug her briefly, and Sam momentarily left Alla to do the same.

As Mary walked up to the blue-colored, beat up Ford Sierra, throwing her duffel on the passenger seat, Dean let out a huff of disbelief. "Seriously, Mom? What are you driving?"

"It's inconspicuous," she winked, allowing herself a one more nostalgic look towards the Impala before hopping into the front seat, rolling the windows down.

"Maybe it was in the 80s. Definitely not anymore!" the older brother called after her as she pulled away, only getting a dismissive wave of her hand in response.

He turned back to the two girls, scratching the back of his head as he rethought their seating arrangements. "Okay, this is going to be a bit more cramped, but Baby has plenty of room in the back for two."

"Could I maybe sit in the front?" Alla tried hesitantly, knowing that the back seat was going to trigger her motion sickness in no time, which has been particularly problematic on long trips – and with the types of cars like the one the brothers drove. Rear-drive vehicles were spikey, and even though she imagined Dean to be a superb driver, the amount of oversteering she was expecting to happen in a '67 Chevy Impala was going to throw off the sense of equilibrium in her ears within minutes.

"No," the boys declared simultaneously, although Sam was a bit more apologetic about it than Dean.

The blonde sighed, trying to steel herself for the ride. This was going to be a rough one, she could tell.

* * *

Alla lasted exactly ten miles before the first waves of nausea hit her. She had tried everything to avoid it. She purposefully did not look at the boys, down towards Ivy who had been sleeping with her head nestled in the blonde's lap, or anything in the car really, because focusing on closeby objects always amped up the motion sickness. She had selected random bits of scenery in the distance and concentrated on those instead.

Dean's music selection of hard rock and metal helped to distract her for a little while, but now the beat just pulsed against her skull uncomfortably, only enhancing the sick feeling in her stomach. The Ukrainian girl suffered in silence for another half an hour before she knew she just wasn't going to win this battle in the end. Alla had a feeling Dean wouldn't take it kindly if someone were to throw up in his car.

"Dean," she gently addressed him.

"Mhm?" the older Winchester hummed to show that he was paying attention, but his eyes never left the road.

"I don't think I'll last much longer back here," the blonde stated, trying to hint at the problem without spelling it right out to them.

"Well, tough luck because you are not sitting up front," he glanced at her in the rearview. Alla held his gaze steadily until he broke away in favor of looking at the traffic in front of them. He showed no sign of wavering.

"I get car sick in the back," she blurted out bluntly.

Dean assessed her again, a tiny bit of trepidation in his eyes for the well-being of the leather upholstery, but whatever he saw had him relax. "You seem just fine."

Alla sighed. Yeah, she didn't turn green or break out in sweat until the point of no return, where it would be already too late to pull over. The prospect of losing her breakfast all over Dean – since she was sitting right behind him – was one of the most humiliating things she could imagine. That thought gave her the inspiration to form a compelling argument though.

"Can I tell you guys a little anecdote? A childhood story of mine?" the girl inquired suddenly.

"Sure," Sam jumped right on to the topic eagerly, wanting to know as much as he could about the girl, while Dean just rolled his eyes at first.

"Go on, cupcake," he relented finally.

The blonde cleared her throat and began speaking as if she was telling an old children's tale.

"There had only been one person beside you who didn't believe that it was solely the back seat that was making me nauseous. That would be my father. Let me tell you, he dared to make that mistake only once. It had been a bright summer day in 1997…"

Her voice was so entrancing, it had Sam enraptured instantly.

"We were on our way home from our road trip to the beautiful coast of Croatia. Magnificent rocky shoreline bordered by the Dinaric Alps. This was before the highways and tunnels were built to cut through the mountains, so we had to take the serpentines zigzagging up and down the mountainsides…"

Both brothers could clearly envision the idyllic scenery she was painting with her words, even though neither of them had ever been to mainland Europe before.

"Now, I must tell you, my father has a very similar driving style to yours, Dean. Dynamic, if you wish to call it that. Sudden brakes and accelerations, jerky steering wheel handling…"

"Hey! I'm not jerking the steering wheel!" Dean exclaimed indignantly, snapping his head back towards the girl, in the process swerving on the road slightly, proving her point as he brought them back into their lane with a sudden correction. The maneuver earned him a few angry honks from the oncoming cars, even though he was nowhere near colliding with them.

"Hush! Don't interrupt her!" Sam shushed his brother, gesturing for Alla to continue.

"I told him to pull over not once, not twice, but three times before I spectacularly lost my lunch all over the back of his neck. Closely followed by my little toddler of a brother, who is either a sympathetic puker or was similarly affected. Though he somehow managed to aim it on the blanket between us. I think you can imagine the faces the border guards to Hungary made a few hundred miles later, as the smell in the car hit them, despite my parents' best effort to clean the mess up. Anyway, moral of the story is, don't have Alla sitting in the back if you know what's good for you."

"Wow," was all that Sam said at the end of that rant, an expectant smirk of his thrown towards Dean, wondering what his next move would be after hearing all that.

Dean gulped, and a look of horror passed over his face as he realized what exactly that story implied for his future, considering that the girl was sitting right behind him.

"Nice try, Allie," he skeptically huffed after a moment, despite his initial reaction. Surely the blonde had more control over her gag reflex than her almost twenty years younger self. Not to mention that… "Florida is practically as flat as a board."

"You are entirely missing the point," Alla muttered under her breath as she leaned back in defeat, closing her eyes for a moment, hoping that would help.

It absolutely did not. If anything it just made the nausea worse, but opening them back up didn't feel too appealing either.

She blindly rolled her window down, and the cool breeze felt heavenly against her skin. For a total of five minutes, after which her attention was drawn back to every little swerve and bump in the road, not to mention the way the back of the Impala swayed slightly in reaction to Dean's steering.

The blonde was feeling shittier by the minute, but she resolutely held out. Stubborn was practically her middle name, she was not going to ask the guys to stop until she had no other choice.

In the end, she was lucky enough that someone else intervened on her behalf.

"Pull over, Dean," Sam suggested a while later.

"What? Why?" he barked at his brother with a look of confusion.

Sam just indicatively tilted his head towards the back, where Alla was looking absolutely miserable by now. Her brows furrowed and she was frequently swallowing as she tried to breathe through the nausea.

"Oh, for the love of…" Dean grumbled but pulled up to the next gas station near Ocala. Two hours. Two freaking hours since they were on the road. At this rate, they were never going to make it back to Kansas in time.

The Ukrainian girl was so transfixed by trying to keep herself from losing her stomach content that she only realized that they were stopping when the Impala was already almost at a complete halt.

After gently nudging Ivy's head off of her lap, Alla scrambled out of the car, hoping that walking around a bit would get the queasiness to die down.

The distinct smell of gasoline was definitely not conducive to the endeavor.

"Gonna fill her up while we are at it. Why don't you go with Sam and see if they have ginger ale or something, huh?" Dean proposed gruffly, apparently still peeved by the early pit stop, but his words showed that he wasn't as heartless as he seemed.

The blonde nodded, catching up to the tall guy who paused a few paces over when he heard Dean's suggestion.

"Thank you," she mumbled to the younger Winchester, keeping the talking to a minimum since she wasn't too confident in her capability of not hurling right then and there yet.

"No problem," Sam said quietly, his arm snaking automatically over her shoulder, and rubbing the side of her arm as they walked into the little store.

She grabbed a ginger ale as per instruction even though she knew it would do nothing for her, and waited patiently for Sam as he paid for their stuff including the gas at station 4 where the Impala was at. The fact that the rest of his haul practically only consisted of junk food and snacks made her stomach roll uneasily. None of those sounded appealing at the moment.

"You really are feeling crummy, aren't you?" he asked after just a quick glance at her.

"I don't know what it is about traveling in the back seat, but it gets me every time," Alla explained as they stepped back outside through the sliding doors, frowning at the loss of the cool air provided by the A/C. "Nothing like this happens if I drive or ride shotgun."

Sam hummed in understanding, his eyes scanning their surroundings. "Oh, look, there's a pharmacy across the street," the hunter exclaimed.

"We should get something for Ivy. I think she is getting a fever," the blonde perked up. Whatever Aaron was doing must have amped up in intensity because the brunette had been shivering for the better half of the last hour, even with her sweater and Dean's jacket over her.

"I was thinking more along the lines of getting you something for the motion sickness," the younger Winchester corrected, amazed by how little thought the girl gave to herself in favor of those who were around her.

Replaying everything that had happened since last night in his mind, he realized there weren't many things that Alla had asked for herself, and even that had been mostly denied from her. Yet she wasn't making a scene about it, just trying to cope as well as she could.

"That too, I guess," she shrugged. In her experience, those didn't really help her either. She just needed to be up front. Maybe it was rooted in some sort of need to have at least the semblance of control. From the back seat, she wouldn't be able to do anything if the driver fell asleep or didn't notice an oncoming car for example.

"We should have some Tylenol in the med kit for Ivy," Sam reassured her.

"Okay," the blonde nodded, hurrying her steps to keep up with his long strides as he strutted to the other side of the road.

Three minutes later and with some over the counter stuff for nausea in hand they made it back to the Impala, where Dean was already behind the wheel, looking as impatient as ever.

"Come on, you guys, we don't have all day," Dean urged his brother when his head popped in through the passenger side door.

"Just another sec," Sam quashed his quick temper with irritation of his own, getting the spare keys from the glove compartment so that Dean wouldn't have to kill the engine, and went to the trunk, careful not to open the hidden compartment too in his haste.

The first aid kit was in the topmost bag, and the younger Winchester quickly found what he was looking for. Though it was Advil, not Tylenol. Maybe even better. Sam's tone and the commotion got Dean's attention enough to get back out of the car to see what was going on for himself.

"Shoulder bothering you?" he asked as he noticed what type of medicine Sam had in his hand, assuming the claw marks left behind by Koschei were the culprit. He hadn't seen his brother take anything for the pain this morning yet.

"No, it's for Ivy," Sam amended, brows furrowed. He was starting to fear that this curse could actually kill the girl if they didn't do something about it quickly. A bit of nausea and fatigue was one thing, but fevers could shoot up to dangerous levels if not monitored closely.

One look at his brother's pensive expression had Dean worried in an instant too.

"Gimme," he requested, his face set hard in determination. He grabbed a bottle of water from the grocery bag Sam had dropped in the trunk beside everything else to go along with the medicine, then made his way to the back door on the driver's side.

He opened it carefully to avoid jostling the car and Ivy in the process too much, then crouched down by the girl's head, gently brushing her hair out of her face and trying to wake her.

He initially had assumed she was just in pain or something to be in need of Advil, but quickly realized that she was burning up. Dean promptly checked her forehead with the back of his hand too, but without a doubt, she had a fever. Ivy slowly stirred under his touch.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty," he murmured.

"Dean?" she asked in a groggy whimper, slightly confused by what was going on. They seemed to have stopped again. Or were still stopped? She didn't know how much time had passed. And she was so cold.

"Take these for me, will ya?" the older Winchester handed her two pills and the water, while his anxiety kicked into a higher gear by how disoriented she was.

Ivy struggled into a half-sitting position with Dean's help, and downed the offered medicine without a word, subconsciously leaning into the warmth his body provided. Dean hadn't been doing anything in particular, mainly just sitting there with her while she drank some more water, but she felt more cared for than ever before in her life.

"Sam, get one of the blankets from the trunk," he called out to his brother as he noticed how hard the shivers were racking her body.

A few seconds later Dean got what he asked for, and wrapped up the girl tightly before making her lie down again, shoving his jacket – that had been on her shoulders till now – under her head as a substitute for a pillow.

"Are you going to be okay?" the older Winchester asked, conflicted on whether she would be able to handle the long drive in her condition, but her best chance at beating the curse was at the other end of this thousand-mile journey. Hopefully, these were just side effects that would clear right up along with that, and she wasn't sick with something else too.

"Yeah… Aaron is just pissed off that I'm not answering his calls or texts," the brunette muttered absentmindedly, trying to curl up on herself as much as she could to keep some body heat in.

"What do you mean? Has he been trying to contact you?" the older Winchester inquired in confusion. Was that douchebag actively doing this to her right now? So far he just assumed it was a general aspect of the curse that automatically reacted to Ivy doing something she knew Aaron wouldn't approve of.

"Since early morning," she admitted shyly.

"And you've been feeling worse since that started?" Dean asked, then cursed when Ivy nodded. "That son of a bitch!"

"Would talking to him and getting him to calm down ease your symptoms?" Sam piped in, his brows furrowed as he mulled over their options.

He and Alla had been leaning against the car, watching the interaction between the other pair unfold. The younger Winchester had hardly ever seen Dean so tender and caring with anyone else besides him. Especially so soon after meeting them. He didn't know what it was, but for all it was worth, these two girls had gripped their hearts tight and didn't seem to be letting go soon. Sam just had no clue how this set up could possibly work in the long run after they lifted Ivy's curse when there was nothing left to tie her and Alla to the Winchesters anymore.

"I don't have anything to say to him," the brunette sighed, tiredly rubbing her eyes. She really didn't want to deal with her husband right now. "Plus, I don't think telling him that I'm headed to Kansas instead of home, with two good-looking dudes is going to calm him down anyway."

"Good point," Sam conceded, not at all fazed by the compliment, though shifting his stance uncomfortably anyway and crossing his arms because he was fresh out of ideas on how to solve this.

"Then just lie," Dean exclaimed suddenly, his face brightening in a boyish smile as if he thought he just had the most brilliant idea of all time. "That will at least get him to back off on the calls, and maybe let up on torturing you for a bit."

Ivy considered that suggestion for a minute then got her cell out. Texting was the way to go because she was absolutely not getting on the phone with her bastard of a husband. For one, she didn't need his brash outburst on top of her headache, and two, she wasn't confident that she could convincingly lie to him that way. Sure, she had avoided opening up to him regarding a bunch of issues over the years, mostly about her feelings of helplessness and isolation, but never outright told him a lie before. Thirdly, she had some harsh words of her own she wanted to direct at him. Revealing that she knew about the curse wouldn't be helpful at the moment though, and she wasn't sure she could restrain herself.

 **On the road now. Long drive, probably only going to make it home by tomorrow. I'm not up to driving** , she typed, showing it to Dean.

Theoretically speaking it would have been possible to reach Culpeper by late evening if one assumed that the girls switched places from time to time and drove all day without any huge stops, but with everything considered, her excuse painted a plausible scenario too and even bought them a bit more time. Tomorrow they could be in Missouri by the time Aaron noticed that something was amiss.

The hunter just nodded his approval, giving her shoulder a final squeeze before standing back up, and gently closing the door.

"Okay, lovebirds. The three of us are going to squeeze together in the front," Dean decided with a heavy exhale, ushering them away with a wide swept wave of his arm. They couldn't afford to waste any more time, so he figured he should give in to the girl's request. "Get a move on, it'd be nice to make it to Nashville at least before we have to find a place for the night."

"I don't need much space, don't worry," Alla said instantly, her eyes wide with surprise at that sudden change of heart as she rushed to catch up with Sam. "I'm fine with being squished up against the door."

"Don't be silly," Sam looked at her unamused, opening the passenger side door for her to hop in the middle.

"Yeah, but if she does need to hurl after all, the closer she is to the door the better," Dean interjected, leaning with his forearms on the slick black roof as he studied her, weighing his odds at keeping the car pristine with each option.

"I won't. I told you it's just the back seat, I swear," the Ukrainian girl insisted. Plus texting, reading or doing anything that required her to look downwards in the car for more than three seconds, but that wasn't an issue at the moment.

"Whatever. You know the consequences if you tarnish Baby," the older brother threatened pointedly before hopping into the driver's seat.

She had no clue what the consequences were, and it took her a second to realize that he was referring to the car with the endearment, but she could imagine what his wrath would entail. In any case, she got in and made herself comfortable with a Winchester at both of her sides. There were definitely worse ways to travel.

* * *

Sam made sure Alla took that anti-nausea medicine and had her sipping the ginger ale from time to time just in case, but honestly she was feeling fine. Her stomach had settled now that she had a good view of the scenery through the large windshield.

In a sense this was a dream come through, seeing this country roll past her as the car underneath them ate mile after mile. She finally got to experience the beauty of it on this road trip, in a way never before, despite the amount of time she had lived here years back.

In light of her earlier little hiccup, she was intent on not causing any more inconvenience for the guys. She didn't ask Dean to stop even when all that soda Sam forced into her was pushing uncomfortably on her bladder, nor when she started crawling out of her skin with hunger around noon. Let them decide when to make the pit stops!

As a result, they were able to make pretty good time to Cordele, Georgia, where Dean deemed they should have some lunch and pulled off the highway to find some two-bit diner. He had been going against all their usual habits, using the interstate instead of backwater roads to hasten the trip.

He was brimming with nervous energy unfamiliar to him that urged him to go faster. The anxiety only increased every time he glanced in the rearview and saw that Ivy was still feeling too unwell to sit up. Sure, he worried about Sam all the time, but this was something different. He wasn't sure it even compared to how he fared when Lisa and Ben were in danger.

As soon as he parked the car, he shot out of his seat, going to the back to check on the brunette, and happy to find that her skin wasn't as hot to the touch anymore as before. Whether it was cleverly lulling Aaron into complacency that did the trick, or just the meds doing their job, he didn't know. Whatever the case might be, he was just pleased when Ivy didn't object to joining them for lunch instead of remaining in the car and sleeping some more.

Her choice of food had him raising his eyebrows though.

"Do you have brownies?" Ivy asked the waitress – Penny according to her name tag – when she came over to take their order.

"Sure. We usually serve it with a side of vanilla ice cream, but given that it's November we don't stock that. Would you still like it that way?" she inquired in her chirpy tone.

"Yeah, that's fine!" the brunette nodded without even looking at the other options on the menu.

"Seriously?" Dean asked incredulously after the redheaded waitress left. The rest of them just went with the burger special. You couldn't go wrong with burgers. Though Sam would beg to differ, he shut up this time. He could eat his salads whenever.

"It's comfort food. I can eat that no matter how shitty I feel," Ivy shrugged. She wasn't sure she could stomach anything else at the moment. Her head was still throbbing, but at least she wasn't shaking like a leaf anymore. Dean's jacket over her shoulders might have helped with that too.

The older Winchester allowed a small fond smile as he shook his head in disbelief.

"Dude, you act like you aren't capable of inhaling a whole pie even when you are flu-ridden," Sam commented with an amused snort.

Dean was scandalized. "Don't you dare bring pie into this!"

"What's your favorite?" Ivy asked in a small voice, blushing internally at the thoughts that were running through her mind. For whatever reason, she wanted to make him one.

"What?" the older hunter looked at her in confusion, not understanding what she was getting at.

"What's your favorite pie?" the brunette repeated the question a little more bravely.

"Uhm… apple… I guess. Or cherry," Dean shrugged, his brows still furrowed as he tried to figure out where this was going.

Ivy just smiled, ducking her head, suddenly very interested in her hands. What was she thinking? She was a married woman, for God's sake! Baking a pie for a man she barely knew was surely inappropriate. Yeah, she was married to a fucker, who – according to all the signs – had her cursed around the age of eight to a life of perpetual illness and isolation. There was absolutely no reason to feel any sense of obligation or loyalty towards him. Yet, guilt crawled up her neck for the thoughts that flooded her mind regarding Dean Winchester.

Alla nudged her side with her elbow, casting a questioning glance at her friend when the men were occupied with the waitress who was returning with their drinks.

Before she could silently relay her answer, Ivy's eyes caught the bright smoldering smile Dean flashed the ginger girl, making the poor gal blush under her freckles. He was a player, Ivy sullenly realized, helpless against the flash of jealous possessiveness that she had no right to feel bubbling up inside her.

The brunette forced herself to look away and turned to Alla, just shaking her head almost undetectably, begging her to just drop it. She didn't want to talk about it.

Lunch was a quiet and a tad awkward affair after that, and neither Sam nor Dean had an inkling of an idea what had caused the mood to shift so drastically. The younger Winchester kept shooting inquiring glances at Alla, who was equally baffled and just shrugged her shoulders at him each time.

Dean was less inclined or worried to find out, instead started blatantly flirting with the waitress when she came back to clear the table. There were definitely mentions of eating pie in that exchange. Her pie.

 _Gross._ Ivy wanted to gag and bleach that mental picture out of her head. Incidentally, that was the exact moment when Sam caught on to what was going on.

"Come on, Dean, time to hit the road," the younger Winchester jabbed his brother in the ribs, a meaningful glare more than enough to shut the Casanova act down.

"Khm, right," Dean shuffled out of the booth, pegging a couple of twenties into the girl's front pocket on her uniform shirt, accompanied by a wink before sauntering out of the restaurant.

Sam rolled his eyes, exhaling slowly. Sometimes, Dean was the most insensitive, oblivious jerk in the whole wide world.

He ushered the girls in front of him as they exited, glad that at least Dean's epic fuck-ups didn't change the way Alla kept close to his side the whole way towards the Impala.

* * *

Driving past Chattanooga would have had Alla in a fit of giggles if it weren't the exact moment when Ivy's three-hour long, stubborn silence – maintained even though she was awake the whole time – was broken. By her sudden outcry of pain nonetheless, which she tried to bite back with partial success, followed by soft whimpers she had no way of keeping from escaping her lips.

It was almost too easy to forget that despite all their careful planning, the brunette's future was in no way under their sphere of control, but determined by the whims of a psychopath more than five hundred miles away from them.

"Dean! Stop the car!" Sam yelled, having a sudden epiphany.

The older Winchester wasted no time in pulling over into the service lane, pointedly ignoring the loud honks from the cars that had been behind them, startled by the Impala's sudden change of course.

"Talk to me, girl, what's wrong?" Dean twisted backward, trying to get a good look at Ivy, who was curled into a tight ball on the back seat.

"I think Aaron can tell where she is. Or at least how far she is from him," the younger brother voiced his suspicions, grabbing his laptop from the satchel by his leg in the footwell. "Where did you say you live?"

"Culpeper, Virginia," Alla supplied the answer since Ivy was way too preoccupied with her pain to form a coherent response.

Dean didn't wait for them to figure out what was going on, just threw his door open and clambered out of the car, quickly getting into the back and drawing the brunette into his arms. Her skin was just shy of smoldering hot to the touch.

"What hurts, princess, tell me?" he asked frantically, holding her with one hand while trying to fish out some medicine from the bag on the floor. He had to believe that it would help. Otherwise, he was going to lose his damned mind with worry.

"I… can't… make it stop… everything… is on fire…" Ivy managed to squeeze through her teeth, groaning with the wave of nausea and pain that rippled through her. She weakly leaned into his comforting arms, all her perceived grievances forgotten for the time being. All that mattered was that he was there when she needed him, nothing else.

"I was right," Sam exclaimed suddenly, having run his suspicions through Google Maps. "Until now even though we weren't headed towards Virginia, we were still decreasing the distance from Culpeper. But after we had hit I-24…"

"What am I supposed to do, Sam?" Dean cut him off angrily. "Take her back to that bastard? Hell no!"

"That's not what I was saying," Sam sighed. "But if he can track her…"

Then she wouldn't be safe no matter where they took her. Probably not even the Bunker, all its warding notwithstanding. This was a specialized spell, there was no guarantee the Men of Letters had set up precautions for this sort of thing.

"I'm… not going… back," Ivy hissed in determination, her fists twisting Dean's shirt as she tried to pull herself up into a sitting position.

"Whoa, easy there," the older Winchester reached after her and supported her frame, keeping her from slumping back down while she swallowed some pills.

"Keep… driving," the brunette told them through her gritted teeth.

"Sam, take over," Dean instructed, shifting his position and pulling the girl practically on top of him, where he could monitor her temperature at any given minute. He was absolutely not leaving her alone right now. Ivy was shaking so hard from the chills, Dean wanted to drag the blanket back up to her shoulder, but he knew that layering more on top of her wouldn't help to get that fever down. He just prayed that his body warmth would be enough to keep her comfortable yet not overheated.

Sam's eyes went comically wide at that command. There were only very rare occasions Dean conceded to passing the wheel over to him when both of them were in the car, most involved him being seriously injured or sick. The less common occurrence being when Dean tried to appease Sam in some way with the opportunity to drive.

The younger brother complied without a word though. Changing places with Alla without actually getting out of the car was a bit awkward, head-butting by accident on the first attempt, then the blonde almost landing in his lap on the second, but they somehow managed it in the end. The shy smiles and apologies exchanged would have been amusing to Dean, hadn't he been too preoccupied with pressing a kiss to Ivy's way too warm forehead.

They made it to Murfreesboro an hour later, where Dean declared them to be close enough to their target destination for the day and insisted that they find a motel quick because in his opinion Ivy's fever had reached ice bath warranting levels.


	8. Nothing can keep me from you

**Chapter 8 – Nothing can keep me from you**

 _Diana Ross – Ain't No Mountain High Enough_

* * *

Finding a cheap and nondescript enough motel – a Motel 6, what else? – and checking in was accompanied by a whirlwind of frantic and chaotic activity, everyone trying to do everything at once. In the end, Dean remained in the car with Ivy, while Sam rushed in to make arrangements for two rooms and Alla sprinted across the street to a convenience store for some ice. They returned to the Impala at the same time, both bearing bad news.

"Sorry, they are all out of ice!"

"Could only get one twin room. The other's a double."

Alla and Sam spoke at exactly the same time, confusing everyone for a second with the cacophony of sounds, and causing each other to freeze for a brief second.

"I don't mind sleeping in one bed with Ivy, we can take the double," the Ukrainian girl offered without much hesitation.

"Ah-ah-ah," Dean interjected, sassily wiggling his index finger. "We are not leaving you girls alone, unguarded with a lunatic on the loose who might be tracking her," he declared as he got out of the car with the barely conscious girl in his arms bridal style.

Ivy's head lolled to his shoulder, and she was vaguely aware of what was going on around her. _I wouldn't object to snuggling up to this hunk all night_ , she thought with a sigh.

Dean's chest rumbled under her cheek with a chuckle.

 _Oops_ , she might have said that one out loud. Though no one was holding it against her. Probably just blaming it on the fever.

For whatever it was worth, the comment seemed to have partially alleviated the tension caused by the non-stop apprehension they had been experiencing. Or at least, that's what she guessed from the subtle shift in the way Dean held his shoulders. Good. The brunette didn't want them to worry, even though she felt like her brain was melting. She promptly decided to ignore that particular detail, and just burrowed her face further into the nice smelling Henley shirt on her right.

"Allie, you go shack up with loverboy," the older Winchester instructed without looking up, lost in mirth as he watched the girl get cozy in his arms.

He would have taken Ivy up on her idea, weren't he a 100% sure that she wasn't in her right mind at the moment. He was definitely many things, lover of the ladies among others, but one to take advantage of women when they weren't in full control of their thoughts and impulses, he was not. Twin beds was the way to go, for both their sakes.

Sam shot his brother an unimpressed glare, the indignity radiating off of him for the title he was given.

"Oh, don't look at me like that. You've been eye-fucking each other the whole way," Dean huffed with an eye roll. "Give me the key to the two queens, you two haul up our gear."

Had it been anyone else but these two guys, Alla would have probably felt embarrassed for being called out like that, but all she could do was smile slyly and intertwine her fingers in Sam's, just to egg Dean on. Okay, quite possibly also to tease Sam. She winked towards the older hunter behind the younger's back as he handed the proper key over.

Dean snorted his laugh, and Sam's eyes shot down in bafflement to where her skin was touching his, his ears turning slightly red from his brother's scrutiny of their interactions.

The older Winchester would have loved to stay and watch the rom-com of the year unfold, but Ivy's hot skin – and tiny whimper of discomfort against his neck as she shivered hard from a gust of wind – quickly reminded him that there were more pressing issues to attend to. He carefully readjusted the brunette in his arms and strutted towards their room without another word.

Worry or no worry for Ivy, Alla couldn't keep her merriment caused by Sam's reaction hidden anymore, and burst out in giggles, causing him to look at her with a half-scandalized, half-amused raise of his brows.

"Sorry," the blonde said with a barely apologetic grin, standing up on her tippy toes and pressing a quick peck on Sam's cheek before continuing. "You are too fun to tease."

Sam would have been offended by that, but the smirk of elation on his face that was elicited by that kiss drowned everything else out.

"Come on," The Ukrainian girl tugged on his hand. "Let's get these inside before Ivy comes to her senses and freaks out that she is half naked in the bath with Mr. Sex-on-Legs."

That one got a full-on belly laugh from the younger Winchester despite the gravity of their situation.

* * *

Alla had sent Sam off to start on the usual hunter routine of supernatural warding in the room that was appointed as theirs, while with the other key to the room in hand she hurried off to assist with Ivy, taking the brunette's and Dean's personal bags with her too to drop them off. Unfortunately, they couldn't get adjoining rooms this time, so she had to go all the way down the hall.

The sight that welcomed her was not something she was prepared for. Her friend was completely out of it in a loopy mess, her dazed eyes lighting up when she saw the blonde enter.

"Alla!" Ivy slurred out with a silly grin on her face. She was lying on the bed, limbs awkwardly tangled in each other as she tried to get herself comfortable. The ill girl paused and turned contemplative for a second as if something didn't quite make sense to her about her current situation. "Is it my birthday?"

Dean was nowhere to be seen, but the blonde assumed he was in the bathroom, starting the water up in the tub. Secretly Alla was glad she couldn't get ice. No matter how high Ivy's fever was, dumping her in ice cold water just seemed unnecessarily cruel. Not to mention counterintuitive. The shivering it would cause would just elevate her temperature back up again.

"Not until April. Why do you ask?" the blonde inquired in confusion as she sat down on the edge of the bed.

"The surprise was really nice… but you really shouldn't have…" Ivy forcefully whispered, giggling to herself as she curled up further, shivering.

"What surprise, Ivy?" Alla followed up with her brows furrowed, trying to figure out what was running through the girl's mind.

"The stripper guy! Aaron's going to kill me!" the brunette confided with a mortified yet quiet shriek muffled into the pillow, before dissolving in a fit of giggles again.

One quick touch to the forehead was enough to confirm what the Ukrainian girl already knew. As amazing and hilarious as her delusion was, that fever needed to come down now, before it fried her brain. At least Ivy still remembered who the blonde was, not that that provided much comfort.

"Dean!" Alla called out desperately, proceeding to strip the pants off of her friend. Camisole and panties would have to do for modesty.

The older Winchester came running out of the bathroom, his eyes searching for danger before they landed on the girls and their seemingly compromising position. He quickly shot down all the fantasies involving the two girls that tried to invade his mind and headed over to help get the brunette into the cooling bath.

"Wait? Isn't he the one who's supposed to be stripping?" Ivy inquired in an absentmindedly dazed grin, finding the role reversal very entertaining, but barely keeping her eyes open as she succumbed to her friend's ministrations.

Dean stopped in his tracks, looking thoroughly flabbergasted by that comment.

"Don't just stand there, help me out!" the blonde urged him on, trying to get Ivy's head through the last – and most challenging – piece of extra clothing, her sweater.

The hunter shook his astonishment off and just scooped the girl up in his arms, much to her amusement.

"Where are you taking me, handsome?" Ivy flirted, her inhibitions wholly shot by the fever, only to nearly pass out a second later.

Dean cast a questioning glance to Alla, alarmed by the rollercoaster ride of keeping up with Ivy.

"She thinks I hired you as a stripper for her birthday," the Ukrainian girl explained with a teasing wink as she held the bathroom door open for the guy.

"I'm not sure if I'm supposed to be flattered or offended by that," the hunter huffed. He probably would have been more amused if Ivy were merely drunk and not fighting for her life. Her temperature had to be at least a 105.

"I'd say just go with the flow, she is going hate you in a minute anyway," Alla suggested after she checked the water. Ice or no ice, it was still way too cold, even for her hands.

Nothing she could do about it now. Dean placed Ivy in the water, who gasped instantly from the shock of the temperature change. She grabbed onto the side of the tub to try and push herself away from the frigid and splashing hell she had been thrust into, despite having almost no energy to do so.

"Shhh," the blonde cooed, trying to soothe her by stroking her hair. "I know. It's okay, everything is okay. We just gotta get your fever down."

"'M c-cold…" the Stark girl stammered through her chattering teeth, all of her previous delight and amusement forgotten. She looked like a caged animal, her eyes full of hurt from the perceived betrayal, darting between her friend and the gorgeous man she couldn't place at the moment.

"I know. I'm sorry," Alla kept on chanting until her friend calmed down. Dean didn't even need to physically intervene or hold the girl down to keep her in the water.

It took no more than a minute for Ivy to relax and let Alla lower her head too into the cooling bath. She had faith that the blonde's hand would be firmly at the back of her neck, keeping her face above water.

After another five minutes Ivy had practically fallen asleep, she was motionless and limp in Alla's hands. The only reason the blonde didn't panic was that she could feel her pulse under her fingertips.

"She has a lot of trust in you," Dean commented in awe. He had sat down on the top of the toilet lid, watching the girls and keeping out of the way, since his help wasn't really needed at the moment.

"Yeah, you'd think we have known each other our entire lives," Alla murmured, looking at her friend with a fond smile.

"Haven't you?" the older Winchester inquired, racking his brain for memories on whether either of the girls had ever mentioned how deep their friendship went in a conversation before.

"No. We have been chatting online for about ten months now, but only met in person for the first time three days ago," the blonde revealed casually.

"Wow," Dean breathed. He knew Alla was from across the pond, but still. He assumed they had at least known each other longer, given the level of familiarity between them.

"We helped each other get through a lot," she reminisced. The last few months had held some dark times for both of them. A variety of health issues on both of their ends. "She has been a better friend to me than anyone else in my life. A better family even."

"Well, family don't end with blood," the hunter remarked, Bobby's words flooding his mind. They missed that bastard something crazy. Dean couldn't believe it had been five years already.

"Well roared, Lion," the girl murmured in agreement. If blood relatives had been the only people in her life, she would have been long dead by now.

"What?" Dean's head snapped up, forehead knitted in puzzlement. Whatever the reference was, he wasn't getting it.

Alla glanced at him apologetically. Her know-it-all big mouth did it again. Why couldn't she just speak like a normal person, without flaunting the fact that her encyclopedic knowledge was greater than that of most?

"Sorry, it's Shakespeare," the blonde stated, refraining from further explaining what the phrase meant.

"No wonder Sammy took a fancy to you, geez," the older Winchester waved off her apology. "You've got the brains to match his."

The Ukrainian girl blushed under the compliment, turning her attention back to Ivy, just as Sam poked his head in through the crack of the door, rapping the familiar knock just out of habit. He had asked for an extra set of keys temporarily from reception to this room, unsure how busy Dean and Alla were, and whether they would be able to let him in. Dean had heard him come in through the front door, but the blonde was so preoccupied she was caught off guard by his sudden appearance.

"How are we doing in here?" he asked uncertainly as he assessed the disquiet in the room.

"Uhm, I think we should get her out of the water soon," Alla sighed, quickly checking the other girl's forehead. She was still too warm, but much better than before and thirty minutes in cold water had to be plenty enough.

Sam stepped in, handing a huge towel to the blonde, then returning to the main area so he wouldn't crowd the small space of the bathroom.

Alla and Dean switched places, the girl holding the towel and removing the plug from the drain to empty the tub, while he got Ivy out of the water. No one cared about getting drenched at this point. He sat her on the side of the tub for a moment so that Alla could wrap the towel around her.

"I'm awake… I'm awake…" Ivy mumbled feebly, her body orienting towards Dean for support, her eyes already closing again despite her efforts to cooperate.

"How are you feeling, princess?" he hummed to her as he got her in his arms again to carry her to one of the beds.

"Like Katy Perry… hot… and cold…" she grimaced against his neck. Honestly, she wanted to say she felt like shit. As far as she could remember, she had never been this sick in her entire life. All because of Aaron. What had she done to deserve this?

"Hah. That's a good one," Dean laughed, and even Sam cracked a smile by the window as he was laying their salt lines down.

In the meanwhile, Alla was rummaging through Ivy's bag to find something for her to wear to bed. Something that preferably didn't smell like roadkill or three-week-old gym socks after having repeatedly been worn. No such luck.

"Awkward as it may be… do you guys have a large, clean shirt or two you could lend us until we find a laundromat? We had only packed for two days for our trip…" the blonde asked, apologetically glancing between the boys.

"Sure," Sam said without hesitation, throwing a meaningful look at Dean.

"Uhm, yeah. We need to do laundry too, but we should have a spare lying around still," the older hunter embarrassedly moved to get his bag but doubled back when Ivy swayed in her sitting position on the bed, catching her before she could fall off. Why he was so self-conscious about giving one of his shirts to the girl, he didn't know. Maybe just the image of Ivy in the shirt and nothing else underneath.

Though curiously he hadn't had this problem with any of his one night stands since he was around fifteen… Yet here he was, getting flustered around a woman like a horny teenager. He was seriously off his game. Though the fact he hadn't let off steam ever since the whole fiasco with Amara probably wasn't helping either.

"Maybe throw in a couple of boxers, too," the Ukrainian girl amended when she remembered that she would have to sleep in one bed with Sam. That would get a tad awkward if her shirt rode up without anything underneath. And though practically unconscious, probably Ivy would appreciate the added layer too.

Dean almost choked on his snort of surprise, especially since that was exactly what he had just been thinking of. Never in a million years would he have guessed that Allie was so… bold. Or unabashed. On the outside, she was the picture perfect example of innocence. Well, not counting the visible shadows of dark memories that sometimes lurked in her eyes.

Sam quietly smirked to himself at his brother's reaction. He went to find the items in Dean's bag while Dean kept busy with towel drying Ivy's hair and pointedly not looking anyone in the eye.

"I'll give you one, don't worry," the younger Winchester conspiratorially whispered into Alla's ear as he walked past her.

"How nice of you," she purred back coyly.

"Oh, cut it out already, you two," Dean snapped at them and their blatant flirting, snatching his T-shirt and underwear out of Sam's hand, then stood there dumbfounded before Ivy. Crap. Right. She still had her wet clothes on. He had no way of undressing her without getting glimpses of things she surely didn't want him to get glimpses of.

"Yeah, you guys might want to step out for a bit," the blonde chuckled at his expression.

"Right," Dean awkwardly agreed, feeling and looking out of place until Sam grabbed him by the shoulders and dragged him outside with a laugh.

* * *

For once. Just for once, it wasn't Sam who felt kind of lost when it came to women. He was practically walking on rainbows and sunshine from the revelation.

"Dude, what's got you so flustered?" the younger Winchester asked once the door clicked shut behind them.

Dean paced agitatedly as if merely being separated from Ivy was making him restless.

"How are you not flustered by the stuff that comes flying out of Allie's mouth?" his brother snapped at him, trying to turn this whole thing back on him instead of meaningfully answering the question. That was one can of worms Dean did not want to open.

"Because she is just teasing," Sam shrugged. Honestly, he found the cheeky playfulness endearing.

"Well, that doesn't stop you from getting your panties in a twist whenever I'm throwing jabs at you!" Dean remarked indignantly.

"That's… different," the younger hunter asserted. He couldn't really put his finger on what that difference was. Maybe the fact that Alla wasn't as much laughing at him, more like with him.

"Different because she is a chick like you?" the older Winchester taunted him with a smirk.

Sam glared at him. "At least she's not a jerk about it." A second later he chuckled to himself. "The way she smiles helps too."

"Hopeless," Dean shook his head, that teasing grin having never left his face.

"Says the oblivious guy," the younger brother retorted with a light punch to the shoulder.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he turned his head at Sam challengingly.

"Come on, Dean. I see the way you look at Ivy," Sam softened his tone.

"She's… that's not…" the older brother hesitated, unable to really deny the accusation. "What does this have to do with anything? She is married, plus dealing with this freaking curse. The last thing on her mind is me."

"I think the very first thing on her mind is you," the taller guy chuckled, remembering the girl's unintentional comment in the parking lot. "Besides, her husband is most likely the one who cursed her. I don't think he is a factor of any sort in her decisions anymore."

"That doesn't mean what she _needs_ right now is hooking up with someone like me," Dean remarked darkly.

"Someone like you?" Sam echoed questioningly.

Dean looked around to see if anyone could overhear them, rolling his shoulders restlessly, his gaze bleak. "A hunter… A _killer_ …" he forcefully whispered with a meaningful glance at his brother.

* * *

Alla chuckled to herself as she helped Ivy change and curl up in bed with a wet washcloth on her forehead, dosed up on medicine. The boys really didn't know the concept of whispering. She could hear every word through the crappy motel door and walls. Well, except for the last few. But what came before that was enough to tell Dean had some serious self-worth issues. To which she could relate alright. They should start a club or something.

She opened the door, making the Winchesters jump a bit as if she had caught them doing something suspicious. In a sense they were, they just didn't know they had been overheard yet.

"All clear," the blonde said quietly, letting them back in.

Predictably, Dean's first route took him to check on the brunette.

"So… I was thinking of starting a few batches of clothes in the washer. I think there may have been a laundromat somewhere by the store. I'd be happy to do yours too," Alla offered as she got Ivy's bag, feeling like she was intruding on an intimate moment between Ivy and Dean with the tender way he was checking her over.

"Good idea, I'll go with you," Sam quickly caught on to the mood in the room, grabbing Dean's duffel. "Don't forget the devil's trap. I couldn't finish it in here."

And on that note, they quickly backed out of the room.

"He is so deep in denial," the blonde whispered with a shake of her head. In a real whisper. Even Sam barely caught her words.

He quirked his brow at her questioningly, wondering how she came to that conclusion. Not that she was wrong. She just gestured for them to start walking towards their room before she continued.

When they were out of earshot, she explained. "Paper thin walls and you guys can't whisper to save yourselves."

Sam blushed with a shy smile. Well, they were capable of staying quiet on hunts, but yes, generally, they were a loud bunch.

"Just as a quick love advice, don't take away a woman's right to choose for themselves," she commented sternly on a side note as the younger Winchester let her into their room.

"Yeah, Dean has a habit of 'knowing what's best,'" he snorted derisively. Lisa and Ben being the most prominent example of that, having all their memories of Dean erased without their knowledge or consent.

"And you?" Alla pressed on. The one thing she hated the most in life was her options being taken away.

"I may have been guilty of making decisions without consulting the other party involved in the past too," Sam admitted reluctantly.

"Just… don't do it again," the blonde sighed. "Not with me. Present the facts, risks involved with each choice, sure. Warn me of things I have no way of knowing yet so I can make an informed decision. But don't make decisions for me."

"That I can do," he murmured, entranced by the fierce intensity of her eyes as she talked. Electric dark blue. That was the color of them under the soft lighting of the room.

"Good," Alla nodded, spinning on her heel to grab her own bag so that they could go and do laundry finally.

* * *

Finding the laundromat was easy enough. Before they left, Sam tossed her a T-shirt and a pair of sweats for her to wear so all of her clothes could get washed. All three outfits. In the long run, this was going to pose a problem.

At least with the strings tightly pulled the pants weren't falling off her waist. That was just shy of a miracle given their height difference and how skinny she was compared to him.

She was longing for her suitcase that was sitting in the guest bedroom back in Culpeper. The warmer clothing items would have been a huge help right about now. Tennessee sure didn't share the benefits Florida enjoyed due to the Gulf Stream. Sam's jacket was the only thing keeping her from freezing at the moment as they took a stroll along the small shopping street to find some food. Hand in hand nonetheless.

It happened out of the blue and Alla wasn't even sure who initiated it, their hands had just magically found themselves in each other's, fingers intertwined as if it had been meant to be that way from the beginning of time. Sam was nervous, she could tell from his slightly sweaty palms. She kept stroking the back of his hand soothingly with her thumb, which earned her several warm smiles from him.

Washing machines loaded, it was all a waiting game now, and a few minutes into their walk Alla's eyes had landed on something that would help the passage of time immensely. Not to mention the practical aspects that would come of the endeavor.

"Sam," she tugged on his hand for him to stop, looking at a storefront with bright neon signs promoting tattoo services.

"What is it?" the hunter glanced at her in confusion at first, then caught her line of sight and understood her intent instantly. "You aren't serious."

"Yes, I am," the blonde asserted. "I don't want to be a liability."

"You are not a liability. I can give you a charm necklace or something with the symbol for the time being if that will make you feel better," Sam countered avidly. Getting the anti-possession tattoo seemed so final to him. A testament that she intended to stay in the life. He really didn't want this for her.

"Chains can break, it can get caught in something or be yanked off of my neck," Alla argued just as passionately.

"Tattoos can be cut or burned off. Trust me, it's not pleasant," the hunter spoke from experience. Though he was mostly kept unconscious by Gadreel, his body still remembered the time Cas removed his tattoo all those years ago.

"I bet getting possessed isn't either," the Ukrainian girl retorted.

That Sam couldn't argue with. He had experience in that department too. Also, he remembered the promise he had just made her back in their room.

"You sure about this?" the younger Winchester conceded but had to ask one last time.

"It can't be worse than this one," she laughed, showing off her wrist tattoo. "I'll make sure they put it in a less painful spot."

The parlor was surprisingly unintimidating with an inked up Bubble Goth girl tending to the reception, a huge and welcoming smile on her face.

"Hey there! What can I do for ya?" she drawled enthusiastically with a typical Southern accent.

"Hi! My friend here has a tattoo I'd really like for myself too, but we are kind of on a tight schedule. Is there a chance you could fit us in now?" Alla inquired with a practiced chirpy easiness from which you would have never guessed that usually, she was the most withdrawn person in the room.

Sam's brows furrowed for a split second for being referred to merely as a friend, but from what he had learned about the girl so far she wasn't the type to flaunt unnecessary details about herself to strangers for no reason.

"Yeah, Butch is free right now, he'll take a look and see if it's a design he feels comfortable with, alright?" the pink haired girl said before hopping off her barstool-like chair and walking into the back area to consult with the artist.

Butch turned out to be a 6'5 guy with a massive beard, and several piercings on his face, while his frame was about twice as broad as Sam's and much more imposing than the hunter too. Sam had to suppress the urge to shove Alla behind himself protectively.

Despite the frightening appearance, the fact that he was a huge teddy bear became evident the moment he opened his mouth. And apparently, he was also more open-minded than she initially would have guessed because he didn't start spouting anti-satanic bullshit when he saw the pentagram.

"Seems straightforward enough," he declared jovially after a quick look at the tattoo on Sam's chest. "Let me just get a stencil of it real quick, then we can get this show on the road. Do you know where you want it, missy?" he asked, getting the see-through paper and a pen to draw the outlines of Sam's tattoo.

"A not too public, but fairly painless spot, any suggestions?" the blonde inquired. Last time she went into this, there were no questions regarding the placement of her tattoo, given it was for scar coverage.

"Arms, calves… but those are usually visible in one way or another. Shoulder blades, if you don't typically wear spaghetti tops. Front thighs…. butt cheeks… No one will see it on your buttocks unless you specifically show them. Unless you are dressed in a bikini…" the tattoo artist listed absentmindedly as he worked on copying the design, standing mere inches from Sam's face and making him a bit uncomfortable.

Alla snorted a laugh at that mental image, which was on par with getting the anti-possession tattoo as a tramp stamp. "Sorry. I think I'll go with the shoulder."

"First-timer?" Butch chatted her up, unfazed by her hoopla.

"No, actually," she admitted, but didn't care to elaborate, and the gentle giant seemed to know to leave it at that.

A few minutes later the tattoo artist was done with the sketch, just comparing it to the original.

"May I?" Sam asked, and made sure that the symbol was correct.

"So given the position of the tattoo you'll have to take your shirt off, and we'll do this in the back, in a private room, but if you want, your boyfriend can stay," Butch offered unassumingly.

The blonde's eyes flickered to Sam trying to gauge his reaction to being called her _boyfriend_ , and whether he wanted to stay or not. All her past promiscuity aside, maybe she wasn't quite ready to show him her naked torso yet, no matter how hypocritical of her it might have been. There was just something special about being intimate with Sam. She didn't particularly want to rush it. Especially in a tattoo salon. And so soon after a window full of trauma had stared her in the face.

In all honesty, it wasn't even her boobs that she was shy about or ashamed of. Her abdomen was littered with scars that she always found ugly and repugnant. There was nothing heroic about them. She didn't get those marks battling supernatural monsters like Sam. They were a mere testament to the many ways her body had failed her in the past. Why would a physically healthy and vigorous man like Sam want to have anything to do with her like this? Sickly and frail, falling apart at times.

"Uhm, could you maybe check on the washing machines, and transfer everything to the dryers while we do this? Maybe get food for Dean and Ivy?" Alla suggested, her face apologetic about her decision.

"Yeah, sure," Sam took it in stride.

"It's going to be an hour, tops. You are welcome to wait in front if you get back sooner," Butch offered kindly.

"See you then," the hunter smiled at her one last time, before ducking out of the room with a small wave.

"So new beau, huh?" Butch turned to her sympathetically. "Are you sure you want to do this? He might be gone in a few weeks, but tattoos last a lifetime."

The Ukrainian girl chuckled, unable to keep the merriment at bay. The fact the guy thought she was getting matching tattoos with a dude she had just picked up was amusing as hell.

"Don't worry, this is for me, not him," she assured him, and they got to work promptly.

Even if tomorrow turned out to be the last day she was ever going to see Sam, she wasn't going to regret having this tattoo.

* * *

When Alla stepped out from the backroom, one anti-possession symbol richer, she found Sam sitting there on one of the black leather couches, wringing his hand, one knee bouncing erratically from nerves. Why he was so high-strung, though, she didn't know. Was he that anxious about being away from her?

She didn't even have to say anything as she entered, it was as if he had sensed her presence in the room, his eyes darting to her the second she emerged. His face visibly relaxed when he saw her smile.

"So… how was it?" Sam inquired coyly, standing up from his place as she approached. The corner of his mouth was quivering slightly from the effort it took to keep himself from breaking out into a full-on grin.

"Like being tortured by a million needles," the girl gasped in mock horror, but Sam didn't seem to get the joke, his brows furrowing with concern. "I'm just kidding, it was all right. I barely felt anything."

That seemed to do the trick, though he was still looking at her with quirked brows of skepticism. The blonde squeezed his hand then went up to the counter to pay, but the younger Winchester beat her to it.

"I've got this, don't worry," he promised, producing a credit card from his wallet.

Mandy – as Alla had learned her name from Butch – was just shy of swooning over the guy's gesture, yet the Ukrainian girl wasn't even fazed by it. Jealousy was one of the farthest things from her personality.

She noticed that suspiciously the card wasn't in the name of Sam Winchester, but one Christopher J. Boyle. Interesting. Wasn't that the real name of that famous rock singer who had just passed not too long ago? Despite the stereotypes regarding blondes she had the brains not to say anything about it.

Until they were outside and out of earshot that is.

"Chris, huh?" she smirked at him, chuckling a bit at his embarrassment as he scratched the back of his head.

"It's not…" Sam began explaining the reason for the intricate – and not entirely legal – art of money-making methods prevalent among the hunter folk.

"It's none of my business really. I assume ridding the world of evil creatures doesn't pay very well," Alla reassured him, placing her hand back into his and giving it a comforting squeeze. She had witnessed crimes much worse than credit card scams or theft in Ukraine, and if anyone, the Winchesters were doing it for a good cause. She wasn't going to start throwing rocks.

"You are something else, you know that?" he gazed into her eyes yearningly. Around every corner, Alla kept surprising him with kindness, tolerance, and understanding he had hardly ever experienced before. Though he was sure, she would go running for the hills if she learned of the major fuck-ups he had been the primary cause of over the years.

The Ukrainian girl felt like something else alright. Something out of place and not quite fitting into the natural order and scheme of life and society. Instead of voicing those gloomy thoughts she plastered a bashful smile on her face at the comment obviously intended as a compliment, and tucked herself under Sam's arm for a side hug, continuing their walk back to the laundromat pressed side to side.


	9. You should have known better

**Chapter 9 – You should have known better**

 _Kelly Clarkson – Because of You_

* * *

An hour later – and in possession of their dryer warm, fresh clothes – back in the motel room, Alla was sitting on the bed cross-legged, eating her burrito and looking at her emails on the laptop she borrowed from Sam. He was in the shower, and she was resolutely trying not to think about him naked, wet and all lathered up… _Dammit_ , mission failed.

As expected, no one was interested in her whereabouts. Not her mom, not her brother, not her supposed friends, nor her coworkers. Truth be told, they knew she was on vacation abroad and unreachable by phone, but she would have expected them to at least drop a short message to her or something, inquiring if she had made it here alright, or how she was doing.

The Ukrainian girl deleted all the spam littering her inbox with a sigh, and logged out of her account, bringing her legs up to her chest as she pushed the laptop out of the way. She laid her head down on her knees, hugging them. She felt so damned lonely, abandoned. The tattoo site on her shoulder was lightly tingling as her skin started its healing processes, and she tried concentrating on that instead of the bottomless void in her chest that was constricting her heart.

Suddenly, the bathroom door opened, Sam slowly exiting and thus providing the most excellent distraction ever from her darkening thoughts. His giant form was stark naked except for a towel around his waist, held firmly by one hand, the other running through his still dripping wet hair as he glanced around the room just as he stepped through the doorsill.

For a moment, it seemed like he had forgotten that it wouldn't be his brother waiting for him, for he was visibly startled, getting rooted in his place when he met Alla's eyes. His attention was wholly and instantly drawn to her. He had to admit, the girl was absolutely delectable with her long hair framing her face gracefully as if she had just stepped out from the cover of a magazine. The fact that she was in his shirt and boxers – despite having access to her own clean sleepwear now – caught him unawares. The outfit also showcased her long, slender, and very bare legs, which wasn't helping with his inner battle regarding what would be appropriate in the situation either.

The blonde wished she hadn't taken a shower already so that she could have a plausible excuse to go grab one to cool herself off. She had gotten minute glimpses of Sam's physique under his clothes before, but being flashed with those abs full-on seriously took her breath away.

She swallowed slowly, bringing her legs under herself so that she would be sitting on her ankles. She felt a bit less exposed that way, acutely aware of how his eyes had been roaming her body.

"Hi," Alla greeted him timidly, unable to look anywhere else but his eyes.

"Hi," Sam echoed, feeling equally lost as she had been for a moment.

The hunter cleared his throat, quickly grabbing his boxers and T-shirt, and retreated back into the bathroom to get dressed for bed. He realized he really should have had the forethought to bring his clothes in with him like she had previously. It just had never been part of his routine around Dean, they had never had the need to be shy around each other for obvious reasons.

When he emerged again, Alla was already lying down and under the covers, facing his side of the bed. He wasn't sure if he was disappointed or grateful for that.

"You know, I could sleep on the couch, if you want," Sam offered lamely, wondering if she was just as uncomfortable as he was.

She raised her brows at him incredulously. Apparently no, she was not.

"Get in here already, you doofus," the blonde chuckled. "We are adults, aren't we?"

"Right," he simpered to himself, flicking the main light off and getting into bed.

They gazed into each other's eyes for a while, illuminated by only the bedside lamps. Even lying there in total silence, this was the most fascinating thing Sam had experienced in a long while.

"Tell me something about yourself," Alla requested out of the blue, searching his eyes with sincere interest.

"Like what?" Sam probed contemplatively. This topic could quickly become the slippery slope of recounting his long list of mistakes, which he really didn't want to get into with her. Not now. Not yet.

"Anything. Everything," the girl said, which truth be told wasn't all that helpful for him to narrow down the direction of her inquiry. "You know so much about me already."

"It's not pretty. My past, I mean. There are things I'm not particularly proud of," the hunter tentatively warned her.

"You speak like mine is all rainbows, sunshine and magical unicorn poop," Alla teased, smiling despite herself. They were such a fucked up pair, but that seemed to just draw her to him even more. He was a kindred spirit, battered and beaten, but somehow still fighting. She admired his strength.

His chuckled response made her so happy. His smile that usually followed her witty remarks was already becoming something of a drug to her, all she wanted to do was look at his lips all day long as those adorable dimples on his cheeks formed. She couldn't get enough of it.

"True. But none of that is your fault. Whereas my decisions led to some awful consequences," Sam corrected. He didn't even know where that list began. Not warning Jessica, keeping things from Dean – especially about Ruby – letting Lucifer out, not looking for Dean in Purgatory, and a couple of dozen other things he had since regretted a thousand times over.

"That depends on who you ask," the blonde muttered somberly, casting her eyes down.

"What depends?" he inquired in puzzlement.

"Whether what happened was my fault or not," she clarified with a sigh. Sometimes even she blamed herself, no wonder others around her had similar thoughts along those lines.

"Come on, you were just a kid," Sam refuted.

"As true as that may be, we were handled as adults in the cult, and we made our decisions for ourselves. One of their principles – doctrines – was that everyone is solely responsible for the situation they are in. I can exactly tell you which of my decisions led to that particular end result, where exactly things turned the wrong way," Alla explained, not looking him in the eyes because she was too embarrassed about her admission.

"Thirteen-year-olds are supposed to make decisions regarding… what clothes to wear that day… and whether they want their hair braided or not. Not about signing their life away to a cause they don't even have the capacity to fully understand," the younger Winchester argued passionately. The blonde had a feeling that he wasn't just talking about her case. She wondered how young he was when he was first introduced to hunting.

"Ten. I was ten when I told my mom I wanted to go with her. Eleven when I joined the 'adult' organization," she corrected him, though the fact that she was even younger at the time than he initially thought had evidently just proven his point.

"I rest my case," he exclaimed with fervid hand gestures. With his current demeanor, Alla could envision him in a court of law arguing a case, donning a tailored suit as if he had been born for that role. "Your parents should have known better."

Yeah, they should have. Alla knew that. She just couldn't stop blaming herself as well. If she could just erase her inquiry from history, the one about accompanying her mom, or if she hadn't proclaimed an interest in joining up, and instead just abode her time in the kid's organization… so many ifs. Though she and her mom might still have been trapped there if she had never made some of the choices that she did.

Silence enveloped them again, heavy with both of their emotional baggage this time, both of them lost in their thoughts.

"You know what my father – who still devoutly believes in this crap by the way – told me when I asked him years later whether he thought the circumstances leading up to my suicide attempt were my fault?" the Ukrainian girl asked quietly, drawing patterns on the sheets with her finger to have something ground her in the torrent of emotions that flooded her.

Moments like these had hurt her the most. Things her parents had said to her were the most damaging to her mental health. If she was worthless even in their eyes, the ones who were supposed to love her unconditionally, how could she expect others to find anything of value in her?

"What did he say?" Sam asked softly, sensing that this was a delicate, emotionally charged moment for her, whatever she was trying to say.

"I quote, 'it's not your fault if someone had shit on the sidewalk in front of you, but it was your decision to go that way,'" the blonde elaborated. Her voice was deadpan, but inside, her heart was dripping with the venom and disdain the man rightfully deserved.

Sam's eyes went wide at that. How could someone say that to a little girl, a teenager, or anyone they cared about?

"Well, your father is a bastard," the hunter stated finally.

"I know…" Alla sighed. "We don't speak anymore. He cut all ties with me because I don't approve of his church and I'm supposedly 'suppressing' him, hindering his spiritual advancement," she said with all the sassy mocking she could squeeze into those words.

"Wow. I don't even know what to say," Sam gaped. _What a bag of dicks!_ "He doesn't deserve you. You are better off without him."

"Probably. Doesn't make the rejection hurt less," the girl chuckled darkly.

Years of therapy and she was still right here emotionally, in the middle of the storm of daddy issues she wished she was over already. She didn't want to think of him. She didn't want to crave his approval or acceptance. She didn't want to yearn for the feeling that he was proud of her. She was so angry at herself for longing for these things.

Sam felt like he was staring into a mirror, everything that had ever run through his mind regarding John Winchester reflected back at him. Alla was right, she had opened up about so many ugly details of her life already. He ought to return the favor. Sooner rather than later.

"I ran away when I was eighteen. From this, the hunter life. Went to Stanford," he quietly confessed. It used to be the big dream, but now there was practically just shame attached to that stunt of his. He had left Dean to deal with their dad alone. Had dragged Jess into this world without knowing and ultimately got her killed.

"That's like an outstanding school here, right?" the blonde followed up with a question Sam wasn't expecting. There was no judgment in her tone, more like something akin to awe, admiration. Support for sure. She was just there to listen, to whatever he chose to reveal.

"One of the best. Ivy League. I got into pre-law on a full scholarship," Sam smiled, unable to fully repress the swell of pride bubbling up in his chest. Getting into that school wasn't an easy feat to accomplish even under normal circumstances, and he had done it while on the road with John and Dean, barely seeing the inside of a high school building.

"Dean mentioned that you are smart, but that is really amazing," Alla praised, internally high-fiving herself for that insanely spot-on observation she had just minutes before about lawyer-like mannerisms. She wished she was this accurate with lottery numbers.

"Yeah, it was," the younger Winchester smiled briefly until he remembered what Alla had been going through at that same time. "John, my dad, was beside himself in rage when he found out. Told me to never come back if I walked out the door."

The Ukrainian girl listened with fascination. This was the first time Sam ever mentioned anything about family. Of course, it was painstakingly obvious how close he and his brother were, but until now it was almost as if they existed outside of any other social construct, including family. It was always just the two of them against the world.

"Is he a… hunter too?" she tentatively inquired. Seemed like a logical leap of reasoning. What parent wouldn't be happy for their son making the cut at one of the most prestigious universities in the country, if not the world? Perhaps one that thought there were more important things in life, like saving people, hunting things. And if Sam had been "in the life" at eighteen, wouldn't he had gotten into it through his dad, given that Mary had been long dead by then? Did raise the question though, if Mary had been a hunter before her death, or just got into it after her resurrection through her sons. So many mysteries she didn't have the answer to, but it didn't seem like an appropriate moment to bombard the guy with her inquiries now.

"Yes, he was," Sam confirmed. "He got into hunting after mom's death, became obsessed with revenge. His sole purpose was finding and killing the demon that did it."

"I'm so sorry for your loss," Alla said, reaching for his hand. She meant both John and Mary since it was evident from the way Sam spoke of his dad that he was dead too, and even though Mary was back, he still had to go through his whole life without a mother. The blonde at least had her mom, even if the woman was never emotionally available to her.

"I don't have memories of mom from before. I was six months old at the time. To me, she was just this mythical figure we worshiped. And dad… well, he wasn't around much really. Even when we were on the road with him, he would leave us in motels for days at a time, while he hunted. My brother was the one who practically raised me. John… uhm… he went out with a bang though. Sold his soul for Dean when he was dying after our car crash ten or so years ago. He wouldn't be here anymore if not for that," the younger Winchester ranted on nervously, feeling the need to fill the mournful atmosphere left by her condolences. He didn't want the conversation to end on that note.

"I'm glad you got to learn that John cared in the end," she murmured, her thumb running comforting circles on the back of his hand as an automatic response now. He seemed to welcome all her touches, and she was glad to give them.

If there was one thing she envied Sam for was that one singular moment, where he had confirmation that despite all the shit John Winchester had thrown at his sons, he loved them and he cared. More than for an ideology or vendetta or whatever else was going on. In the end, family mattered more. She never had that. She just had an empty void that left her wondering.

"Yeah, there's that at least," Sam half-heartedly agreed, and she instantly knew she shouldn't have said that. No singular moment could erase years of hurt. At the bottom line, both of their fathers had been shitty as hell. There was no more to it. This wasn't about her, and she was refusing to let envy fester her heart. It was a rather ugly and quite frankly useless emotion in her views anyway.

Alla scooted closer to the guy, bringing him into her embrace. Sam was taken by surprise for a moment but returned the favor a second later. Sometimes hugs were the best remedy for everything.

"He should have known better," the girl hummed into his neck, echoing his words and acknowledging his emotions.

Sam clung to her even tighter after hearing that.

* * *

He should have known better. He shouldn't have given in. But damn, the heart-wrenching pleading was hard to say no to. Dean had a feeling this woman would be the death of him.

It had started with a small whimper, right after Sam had dropped off the food and the clean laundry. Ivy had woken up feeling too cold, curling up into a ball in her bed.

Dean – against his better judgment – had given her his blanket. That had seemed to settle the brunette down for a little while. He had kept careful watch over her, checking every few minutes to see if she was still breathing and all right before he was able to put his own worry over her well-being to rest long enough to sit down and eat.

The older Winchester had barely had time to stuff his face with the burritos when Ivy woke up again, kicking off the blankets because she was overheated, looking at him with miserable eyes as she tried to get comfortable again. He changed the wet cloth on her forehead, placed another two on her wrists to help get her temperature down, before deciding he deserved a shower of his own too after the day they had.

Ivy was back to being a shivering mess by the time he got out, begging him in her delirious state to come and warm her up.

"Dean…" his name left her lips in a small, desperate plea.

Dean exhaled heavily, dragging his hand down the five o'clock shadow on his face. Did he really have a choice, prior resolutions of staying away from anything remotely intimate with Ivy or no? When a lady asks something of you, you oblige. Unless it's no lady at all, but something going bump in the night, trying to lure you in… But Ivy was just a girl in need of comforting. And he was a lady pleaser alright…

"Ah, fuck it," the older brother muttered under his breath, his determination crumbling.

So, that was how Dean had ended up in the same bed with the brunette. She was curled up with her back pressed to his front, hogging his right arm which was thrown over her waist, and refusing to let go, as if he would disappear the moment she did.

So much for the twin beds plan. So much for keeping his distance. So much for playing it safe.

 _He should have known better…_

"Sorry…" Ivy whispered some thirty minutes later and judging from the way her voice wavered, battling to hold back tears.

"There's nothing to be sorry for, princess," Dean huffed, shaking his head internally in confusion. He had no idea what had brought the sudden apology and waterworks on. He just wished the girl would get some rest already. She really needed it with the fever her body was still battling despite all their efforts to lower it.

"I know the last thing you need or want is dealing with me," the girl said softly, releasing her death grip on his arm. Now that she was lucid again, shame and guilt bubbled up inside her. She hated being a burden on anyone, but especially on people who hadn't really signed up for the rollercoaster that was her life, just kind of got dragged in along the way.

Dean was dumbfounded for a moment, wondering where that assumption of hers came from. It eerily echoed his own sense of unworthiness of her attention.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, using his suddenly free arm to brush a few wayward locks of hair out of her face, then stroking her arm comfortingly instead of withdrawing from her.

"I'm sure you'd rather be out, hooking up with this week's barfly than being stuck here taking care of an ill girl," the words left her lips before her brain to mouth filter had a chance to catch the bitter thoughts.

"Is that what you think of me?" the older Winchester inquired, his voice gruff with the thinly veiled hurt. His hand ceased its ministrations over her skin. Of course, she wasn't wrong in her observation in a general sense. It was spot on actually. Under normal circumstances, that is. But whatever was going on in his head regarding Ivy Stark was far from ordinary.

His tone caught her off guard and made her turn around to face him, to see his reactions better. It wasn't a confirmation, or a denial, just… an ache? As if she had found his sore spot and slapped him hard or something. Maybe all that sass and swagger was just a shield to avoid genuinely opening up to someone? Indulging in one-night stands to avoid connecting to someone on a deeper level? Yet, that was precisely what was happening between them it seemed. Was he drawn to her the same way she was attracted to him?

"I don't know what to think of you, Dean Winchester," Ivy tentatively stated, searching his eyes. "You are sending mixed signals. Caring and tender one minute. Flirting with the waitress in the next, pretending I wasn't even there."

Oh. _OH!_ The lightbulb came on in Dean's mind. _That's what this was all about!_ He kind of wondered why she had been so quiet after the inquiry about his favorite pie. Which also had him confused back then, as to why that was such an essential detail to her. He wanted to bang his head against the wall for his stupidity and obtuseness. Usually, it was so easy for him to read someone, see whether they were interested in him… but with Ivy… he didn't know where his head was at. _Dammit, this shouldn't be happening… she shouldn't be attracted to him._

"Trust me, sweetheart, I'm no good for you," Dean proclaimed in a grave tone.

Ivy studied his face for a couple of seconds, noticing how much it was killing him to have to say that. The guilt of all the shit he had done in his lifetime visibly weighed down on his shoulders, making him deny any and all true, meaningful indulgences from him.

"I call bullshit," she replied, snuggling up to him and burying her face in his chest.

Dean had no idea what had happened, why trying to push her away meant absolutely nothing to her when just a minute earlier she had been plagued by self-doubt. Whatever the cause, she had seen right through him this time.

His arm carefully circled the girl, pulling her closer. For one hour – just for one hour – he could put all his concerns aside, and just enjoy having her warmth against his skin. Once she was asleep, he would find the strength to get back in his own bed.

Despite everything, all the circumstances that led to this moment, despite the reality that she was way too warm and obviously unwell, just the fact that she was there was comforting to him, soothing something deep inside that he didn't even know needed soothing.

The older Winchester wasn't sure how he was going to ever let go of the idea of having Ivy around once this curse was broken. She would be free to do as she pleased, possibly – hopefully – moving onto something better, instead of staying with them, in the smack middle of the supernatural drama – not to mention danger – that she would have to face by merely associating with the brothers.

She was on the brink of falling asleep when something occurred to her. A memory that was kind of fuzzy around the edges, making her unsure whether it was real or something her feverish mind had made up.

"Hey…" Ivy began softly, cutting right through his whirling thoughts. "Did I ask you to strip for me?"

Dean snorted his surprised laugh against her hair, the air from his exhale tickling her shoulder and neck, sending delicious shivers down her spine.

"Nah, princess, you didn't," the hunter murmured against the top of her head with a playful grin on his face. Well, she didn't ask outright, just alluded to it. "But I guess I still owe you one since you were under the distinct impression that I'm your birthday Chippendale. Can't have you disappointed."

Ivy felt her face heat up with a flush that had nothing to do with her elevated temperature. Geez, that must have been so embarrassing, but instead of getting swallowed up in self-hate and mortification, she tried to hang onto the fact that Dean's tone obviously indicated that he was teasing and not that he was put out by her behavior. The brunette was feeling much braver than she usually would. She credited her loss of inhibitions to a mixture between her fever and the feeling of being liberated from Aaron's influence. Mentally at least. She never wanted to be that girl again, who let herself be pushed to the sidelines or controlled by a man. Just had to get this damned mark off of her shoulder too.

"I'll hold you to that one," the girl whispered coyly into his ear. "Once I'm sure that I'm not dreaming and certain that the memory won't get lost in a feverish haze."

Dean liked that idea very much, smirking against her hair as he pulled her closer.

Ivy fell asleep moments later in Dean's arms, never having felt safer anywhere else in her life. The hunter followed her into dreamland soon after, his initial plan of moving to the other bed once she was unconscious thrown out the window. All in all, he really couldn't come to regret that the additional bed never saw use.

* * *

Alla stirred from her sleep, not quite certain what had woken her. Sure, her right arm was uncomfortably squished under her own weight and fully numb by now, but she had only realized that once she was already regaining consciousness. She and Sam were still tangled in each other, and she could feel his heart beating as she lay with her head on his chest. The blaring red numbers of the clock sitting on the nightstand on Sam's side of the bed told her it was 3 AM. Way too early to wake up yet.

She shifted her position a bit so that she could get her arm free, wincing a bit at the uncomfortable pins and needles feeling that spread through her limb. Paresthesia was a bitch, and the Ukrainian girl was way too familiar with it. Yet again, a reminder of the many ways her body was refusing to work normally, and for which the doctor's hadn't been able to find a cause, like for so many others. They had ruled out all of the usual suspects – nerve damage, stroke, multiple sclerosis, diabetes, sciatica. They even had her on vitamin supplements, in case it was a B12 deficiency, but nothing resolved whatever was causing her limbs to fall asleep on a regular basis in seemingly comfortable positions. This current instance was warranted though, Alla supposed. She shouldn't have dozed off like this, but that didn't change the fact that this was a recurring theme in her life.

The blonde was just about ready to go back to sleep when Sam twitched, mumbling something under his breath.

"Hm?" Alla hummed sedately, turning her head to look at the younger Winchester, assuming he was talking to her.

His brows were furrowed, a sure-fire sign that he was in distress, but for all intents and purposes he was still unconscious.

The girl quickly realized he was having a nightmare, and that the minute signs of his agitation must have been what woke her in the first place. Now that she was paying closer attention, she mentally cursed herself for not realizing sooner that indeed his heart rate was a tad too fast for someone supposedly blissfully asleep.

"Jess… no…" he mumbled again, now somewhat clearer, so Alla was able to make out what he was saying.

She didn't know who Jess was, but whatever was happening in his dream did not seem pleasant at all. The girl instinctively reached out to his face to soothe him back to a restful sleep or wake him, whichever was possible, not realizing how dangerous that act could be. He was a hunter after all, and the combination of rigorous training and horrid experiences was a foolproof recipe for violent lash outs when caught off guard.

His eyes shot open the instant her fingertips touched his skin. His whole body stiffened for a fraction of a second with a rush of adrenalin as he came to, then almost faster than lightning one of his hands grabbed Alla's wrist, while the other darted to the gun under his pillow before his conscious mind even realized where he was or whom he was with.

Sam, fortunately, stopped mid-motion before he reached his firearm, his eyes locking with Alla's. There was just enough light in their dark room for him to see how frightened she was from his sudden movements. Even though it lasted all but a second before her blue eyes softened with sympathy and understanding, Sam's mind was instantly filled with guilt as he let go of her wrist.

"It's just me, Sam," the blonde murmured calmingly, running her fingers through his hair as she had originally intended to. "Everything is okay."

Alla had just now realized that even though she had wanted to touch his hair from basically the moment she first saw him, she had never actually had the chance to do so until now. It was surprisingly soft – for a man and one of his profession – and she almost blurted out a question about what conditioner he used before she caught herself, for this was really not the time.

Though, she supposed the comedic aspect of the unexpected inquiry could have been an effective way to comfort the tall hunter, or at least distract him from the nightmare and its aftermath. Nonetheless, she decided not to experiment with that just yet, so early in their acquaintance. Based on his interactions with Dean, there were definitely times when Sam did not appreciate humor, especially ones pertaining to qualities of his that could be seen as girly.

As reality came back into full focus for Sam, he closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, half relieved that he had come to his senses fast enough to avoid hurting Alla, and half disgusted with himself, feeling undeserving of her comforting after almost pulling a gun on her. It had been a long while since he had slept in one room with anyone besides Dean, let alone in the same bed. Sam knew if things were going to continue to progress on their current trajectory, he'd better get used to that fast and tone down these gut reactions before he injured her by accident.

Coupled with the way Alla's presence reminded him of Jessica, he should have been prepared for the return of the age-old nightmare. Sam rarely had this particular dream anymore and the image of his late love stuck to the ceiling, burning, had lost its sucker punch quality eons ago, no longer causing him to wake up with a start, screaming her name. Although, he almost wished that were still the case because seeing her face again – especially after such a long break – was just as heart-wrenching as ever, even if it had gained an almost bittersweet aftertaste. He just no longer had an easy, automatic out to cut the memory short, and was forced to sit through the whole thing like a damned movie, watching it replay over and over again until morning came and some outside stimulus – his alarm for example – finally woke him.

Except for tonight. Tonight, Sam had another blonde – who had somehow become almost just as important under such a short time – here with him. He counted his blessings that Alla was so in tune with him and his needs that she knew to wake him, and thus save him from having to relive one of the worst days of his life. But thinking of Jess while Alla was stroking his face made him ashamed of himself even more.

The younger Winchester had believed he was over her death, despite the initial, almost overwhelming guilt he had felt over it. On second thought, it wasn't even just _her_ death that haunted him though. Basically, every woman he had ever cared about had ended up dead in one way or another. The only exception he could come up with right off the top of his head was Amelia, and he wasn't too proud of the way he ended things with her either. Even if the method was mutually agreed upon (the motel room and that both of them were free to show up or not), the fact that he had never explained things or opened up to her, the way he just left her and everything she represented – the apple pie life – was cowardly in a sense in his opinion.

What the hell was he doing with Alla, taking that track record in consideration? She deserved better… So much better.

"Sorry," he said mournfully, not even sure what he was apologizing for anymore, bringing up his left arm – which had been awkwardly raised all this time due to the aborted grab for the gun – to cover his face.

She had no way of knowing what was going on in his head, she just saw all the conflicting emotions flitting across his face before he decided to close himself off completely.

"Hey, none of that," Alla admonished softly, never ceasing her ministrations with her hands. "You don't have to hide from me. Nor apologize for something you have no control over, like nightmares."

At least that was what she assumed this was about, his startled reaction scaring her. Although belatedly, she understood just how close the encounter could have been to a disaster. One wrong move and he could have easily broken her bones or caused life-threatening injuries. Not that she could come to care, at least where she was considered. She was only concerned about how he would cope with the fact of hurting her.

When a choked little sound between a sob and a snort was Sam's only response, the Ukrainian girl knew for sure that there was something more to this. Possibly regarding Jess, the mystery woman haunting his dreams.

"Come here," the blonde beckoned as she turned onto her back and leaned against her pillow, inviting the younger Winchester into her arms. "Let me return the favor."

Sam lifted his arm off his face and turned his head slightly to look at her. The idea was so damned inviting, and her eyes were so sincere with the offer that despite the inner turmoil he just couldn't resist.

His frame was huge, and the weight of more than two hundred pounds of pure muscle crushing her from the side was on the verge of uncomfortable, but Alla couldn't have been more content than with the hunter in her embrace, his face snuggled into the crook of her neck. Tactile comfort was one thing she was good at. Words, not so much. She never quite knew what would be the right thing to say. She still felt like she should say something now, considering he was on the verge of tears. She had come to realize, of course, that Sam was the more sensitive of the two brothers, but still, she could only imagine the weight of the things that could bring him to tears.

"You really love her, don't you?" the blonde whispered against his hair, kissing it lightly. It wasn't just soft, smelled nice too, she noted, her mind going off on a tangent.

Sam tensed in her arms, and she wished she had kept her mouth shut. She had meant those words comfortingly, to show that he was in a safe place, free to talk about whatever was on his mind, but instead, she just made him hide behind his walls even more.

"You don't have to talk about her if you don't want to, I'm sorry," she said hastily, stopping her ministrations in case he wanted to withdraw from her touch. In a sense, she had eavesdropped on his dreams, she supposed. It was understandable if he found that jarring.

The hunter cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably a bit, but he didn't pull away. "I… uhm… was I talking in my sleep?"

"Not really, just her name," Alla told him truthfully, tentatively weaving her hand back into his hair, drawing little circles into his scalp with her fingers.

He visibly relaxed at hearing that, which suggested to Alla that she shouldn't pry further. That was why it was so surprising when Sam spoke up again without prompting.

"You don't have to worry about her you know… Jess… uhm… she is not in the picture anymore. She died more than ten years ago," the younger Winchester confessed quietly.

The way he had put that confused Alla for a moment. Why would she worry about a person she didn't even know, even if he had been dreaming about her? Then it dawned on her. He must have been embarrassed because of whatever was evolving between them, and assumed she would take the idea of another woman – even if she was in his past – the wrong way.

"I wasn't worried about her," the Ukrainian girl murmured. When Sam lifted his head, his face full of puzzlement at her words, she continued, looking deeply into his eyes to make sure he understood her. "I don't do jealousy. The only thing I care about is that you are okay."

His eyes darted between hers, brows furrowed in disbelief as if she was saying something unfathomable. Especially since he had just told her that he had been dreaming about a woman who was long dead. After those words had left his mouth, he thought she would find that even more jolting than if it had been someone he hadn't quite gotten over.

"You are remarkable, you know that?" Sam propped his head on his elbow to lift some of his weight off of her.

"Why is that?" she questioned with a small smile, happy that he didn't call her weird, or _something else_. That was just a tad too triggering if he meant it flatteringly.

"I just assumed most women would throw a hissy fit, trying to find out who Jess was," he shrugged as he explained what he found her reaction out of the ordinary.

Alla sighed. "Am I curious? Sure. Is there a point to feel… I don't know… jealous? No…" she glanced at him briefly before continuing. She might as well give him her whole reasoning on the subject. If there was someone who didn't seem to mind or at least tolerate her running her mouth, it was Sam.

"Even the concept of jealousy, or envy, never made sense to me. I mean, I get the slight feeling of sadness when you see someone have something you would want too, but I would never hate, resent or despise that person for having it, or wish that they didn't, or that I could trade places with them. That seems like a very petty and fucked up logic to have, at least to me. As for jealousy, like over another woman, who is – or I suspect is – in the life of someone I love—" the blonde cut herself off for a moment as she realized what she had just said, but continued coolly as if nothing had happened. This was just a hypothetical discussion anyway, right? She was speaking in general terms… right? She herself wasn't even sure anymore, but that was to be decided later, after a serious, introspective session, preferably alone.

"I believe if they want to be with me, they will be, and if they don't… well, then they should just go anyway. And as long as our relationship is sound, my significant other is there both physically and mentally when they need to be, then why couldn't they go and do whatever they wanted when they are not with me?" she paused for a second to take a breath, catching his watchful eyes on her and blushing. "Sorry, I'm ranting."

"That's a very mature, and rational way of thinking," Sam grinned at her, slightly amused by the extensive answer he got. He also filed away her choice of words, never specifying the gender of her significant others as she had put it.

"Yeah, I've been accused of being a robot before, so no worries there," the blonde snorted. She looked away, trying to play it off as a joke, but honestly, it was a bit too close to home, even if the insult was usually used in a different context, like at work. Given what she did, pushing her emotions down and basically just pushing through was the only way she could survive there. You'd be amazed by the things desperate people who were about to be laid off could throw at you, sometimes verbally, sometimes quite literally.

So not letting herself feel emotions in that moment was a matter of survival for her, if she wanted to avoid being swept up in that torrent several times a day that is. What happened later at night, when she was alone, and her mind replayed the day's events was a whole different matter. No one got to see that side of her, so she forever remained as the unfeeling HR bitch from floor three. Sometimes she wondered if she had chosen the right profession for herself. This was definitely not what she had envisioned when she first started college. What was she doing with her life honestly?

"Hey…" the hunter cupped her chin to turn her face back towards his. "You are the most compassionate and considerate person I have ever met."

"Sam…" the Ukrainian girl whispered, her unshed tears coloring her voice.

"Yeah?" he asked worriedly.

"I don't want to go back," she blurted out, without offering any context. What was there for her anyway? Her family? Who didn't even care? Friends? What friends? Work? Yeah, right.

"Go back where?" Sam wondered out loud.

"Home," Alla said. Though honestly, was that her home? It sure didn't feel like it. She had never fit in, never knew how to act around others or what to do.

"Back in Ukraine?" the younger Winchester guessed.

She just nodded, unable to form the words anymore. In just one short day, she had been more welcomed by Ivy – and then the Winchesters – than she had ever been in her whole life.

"We will figure something out, okay?" Sam brought her into his arms again, squeezing her tightly.

The girl nodded again, letting herself be comforted by him once more, even though this started out as an exercise of consolation the other way around. This was starting to become a theme, one she was definitely all right with. Sam Winchester gave some pretty awesome hugs after all.

In the end, she didn't get to find out any more about Jess. Alla was confident that she had been very important to him. Judging by the way he handled the nightmare she guessed that this wasn't the first – not even close – and probably not the last time he was going to dream about her. She was okay with that. One day he would tell her, she believed, and if not, well that would be totally fine too.


	10. Test of mettle

**Chapter 10 – Test of mettle**

 _Vicious Rumors – Faith_

* * *

Beep. _Beep._ _ **Beep. BEEP. BEEP!**_

 _Ugh. Freaking 5 AM alarm,_ Alla groaned internally.

It was way too early to get up, especially given that they hadn't done much sleeping between all the talking, emotional drama, and subsequent comforting that they had both needed at different times during all of that. She couldn't come to regret staying up late though, not with getting to know Sam better and waking up in his arms in the morning. Also, they needed to head out within the hour if they wanted to make it to their destination in time. The blonde was curious to find out whom the brothers had sought out for help with the curse. She had her suspicions. Who would know enough about spells and witchcraft if not another witch? She just hoped – whoever this person was – they were trustworthy enough.

Sam stirred not even a second later too, his right arm shooting out automatically to shut the obnoxiously loud beeping off.

"Mhm, good morning," the younger Winchester muttered as he turned back towards the girl with a groggy smile, his voice deeper than usual and still thick with sleep. It was definitely doing things to the blonde. She wasn't sure how much longer she could keep "taking it slow."

"Morning, Sam," Alla echoed just as he pressed a kiss to her forehead and clambered out of bed, searching for a pair of shorts and running shoes in his bag. In all honesty, the fact that Sam was a runner seemed so in character for the younger Winchester, it didn't even faze her when he started getting ready as if she had always known that little detail about him.

The blonde propped herself up on her elbows, just enjoying the view of his firm ass as he got dressed. She knew she could easily get used to early mornings like these, lazily watching the hunter go through his usual routine. There was a practiced efficiency to all his movements, the way his muscles tightened, not an ounce of extra energy spent on anything unnecessary. It was mesmerizing.

"Wanna join me?" Sam asked out of the blue, turning suddenly toward her. His grin grew wide when he noticed her staring, making her blush a bit.

"Sweet of you to ask, but I'll pass. I don't think you'll get much running done if you try and match your pace to mine," the girl's mouth pulled into a self-deprecating half frown. Yeah, it was a no-brainer, you just had to look at the two of them side by side, and you'd be able to tell instantly who had the better endurance.

"You sure? I don't mind," the hunter checked once more invitingly. Truth be told, he wasn't too comfortable with leaving her all alone in the motel room while he was out, and would have gladly sacrificed the effectiveness of the day's work out if it meant he could keep an eye on her and make sure she was safe.

"Yeah, I'll go get us breakfast in the meantime. Or pack our bags," Alla offered as she sat up fully, rubbing her face with her hands, trying to get the cobwebs of sleep out of her eyes.

Her plan was not helping with Sam's peace of mind at all. Actually made him even more anxious. A million scenarios of things going wrong while she went out for food flooded his thoughts, each worse than the one before. Anti-possession tattoo notwithstanding, since half of the horrors weren't even supernatural related.

"Uhm, just leave mine, okay? I'll pack it when I get back," he said finally, deciding that being overprotective and trying to limit her mobility wouldn't go over well, knowing her issues with confines.

"Sure," the blonde nodded a bit dejectedly. Though, realistically speaking it wasn't a shocker that he didn't want her going through his things. They were just so comfortable with each other that she had forgotten that barely more than a day and a half had passed since they had met.

"It's not that I don't trust you, but there are some knives in there, and another gun too, I think," Sam elaborated, noticing her change in demeanor, then went and retrieved the handgun from under his pillow, stuffing it into the back of his pants.

Alla's eyes followed him around, slightly widening for a moment at the realization that yes indeed, Sam Winchester slept with a gun under his pillow. That fact put a whole other spin on last night's close encounter. Fuck broken bones, she could have ended up with a bullet in her brain! She quickly schooled the shock off of her face before he looked back at her, not wanting to retrigger the guilt and terror Sam must have felt over his overreaction last night. The blonde knew on a rational level of course that those reflexes very well could mean life or death for him in any other situation, so she couldn't really blame him. She briefly wondered just when exactly had he stashed the gun there, though she supposed he had plenty of time to do that while she was in the shower.

"Okay," she conceded amiably with his request, but couldn't stop the amused little smirk to tug at the corners of her mouth. The subtle – or sometimes not so subtle – ways he expressed his concern and care for her well-being was the most adorable thing in the whole world.

Knives, admittedly, she wasn't a fan of. She generally avoided even touching one if she could help it. The most significant reason why she never cooked. She wouldn't call it a phobia, it was nowhere near debilitating, but after what she had done to herself there was always this tiny voice inside her head that made her a bit wary of herself around sharp-edged objects. Even after all these years, despite the fact that she had never cut herself on purpose since then. Of course, that didn't mean she wouldn't pick up a silver knife for example when needed to test someone or defend herself, she would just rather not if it were up to her.

But guns… well, those were sort of a neutral category. Even though she never had much practice with them, it was all just mathematics and physics to her, estimating range, the angle of descent, trajectory, and the wind. Boy, she almost wished he knew what she could do with a rifle.

"What?" the hunter's mouth quirked into a small puzzled smile of his own at her expression.

"You realize I'm from Ukraine, the only country in Europe where firearms are not regulated by statute, right?" Alla brought her knees up to her chest to prop her elbows on them as she watched him quirk his brows at her questioningly, not quite understanding what she was getting at.

"Meaning, even though we inherited vast quantities of Soviet-era small arms and ammunition, the country lacks cohesive gun laws. The amount of unregistered, illicit firearms is just insane. Authorities can't even give you an accurate enough estimate on it. Official statistics would make you believe that we are well below the world average with numbers like guns per capita and that those figures are mostly made up of hunter's rifles and shotguns, but actually, handguns are almost as common there as in the US. Same with Russia by the way," the Ukrainian girl ranted on.

"Huh," he huffed, not even trying to hide his astonishment. Not really by the facts Alla had rattled off, even though those were news to him too, but just by the sheer amount of seemingly random data and knowledge that she had accumulated. It was almost as if she had an answer to or comment on everything. With the way things were going, he allowed himself to entertain the idea of having Alla around for the long term, letting her loose on all their lore books back at the Bunker. No doubt, she would be a valuable asset with research. Sam bet that she would be able to piece clues together about cases faster than any of them, himself included.

"So, yeah. Even though we personally didn't own any, there was always one kid or another around the neighborhood who would come showing off their dad's rifle, egging everyone on to shoot cans and stuff. Believe me, I know my gun safety. I'm a pretty decent shot too," the blonde finished off, trying to play it cool, but there was just a hint of spark to her words as if she itched for Sam to challenge her on her claims so that she could brandish her skills.

"Well, we'll have to put that to the test once we get back to the Bunker then," the younger Winchester grinned indulgingly, leaning down and pressing a peck to her lips as he was heading out without even realizing what he was doing until it was too late.

Sam pulled back, eyes wide, looking embarrassed. Definitely not how he had envisioned their first kiss – so casual and familiar as if it was no big deal at all. She was just so comfortable to be around that he had literally forgotten that they barely knew each other. Alla blinked in surprise, which had him worried for a second, but then she beamed at him with a flirtatious smile so bright it was hard to resist returning it.

"Let's do that again properly once you get back, what do you say?" she murmured, peeking up at him through her lashes.

One of the many things he loved about her was that she was tough to catch off guard, and even if he did manage to do it, she would bounce right back, making it almost impossible to feel ill-at-ease around her. She just knew how to take everything in stride, even if the other person had done something incredibly awkward or possibly out of line.

"Yeah, let's," Sam agreed with a small huff of a laugh, still a bit embarrassed, which was evident to see from the way he rubbed the back of his neck as headed out the door.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Alla lifted her fingers to her lips, which were still tingling with the warmth of his, no matter how briefly they had touched. She wanted to squeal and giggle like a teenaged girl who had just been graced by the attention of her crush. Sam Winchester was making her feel things she wasn't sure she had ever felt for a man before. Such pure joy and excitement at the smallest things, like the random unexpected touches of their skin. She had never experienced the level of attention he gave her from anyone before. The way he seemed captivated by everything that left her mouth was honestly intoxicating.

Like so many times before she was brought back from her musings by a knock on the door. She shook her head with a quiet laugh. She probably got to stop getting so immersed in her thoughts.

"Did you leave your key…" the blonde called out with a small laugh but faltered for just a split second when she realized the pattern didn't exactly match their agreed upon secret code. "Or something, Sam?"

She quickly grabbed the holy water and the silver knife from the side pocket of Sam's bag where she knew he had stashed them, tiptoeing to the window as quietly as she could, and peered out through the blinds inconspicuously. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously when for all intents and purposes it seemed to be Dean. Or someone with his appearance.

The girl took a big breath, counted to three as she pressed herself against the wall by the door, and with a quick twist of her wrist she turned the knob, yanking the door open.

"And boom, you are…" Dean couldn't finish his sentence because he was splashed in the face with holy water from the side, and the silver knife had already nicked his finger by the time he realized that he hadn't caught Alla unawares as he had initially assumed. "Ow!" he exclaimed but otherwise didn't react to either of the tests, no burn or shizzle, much to the girl's relief.

"Don't ever do this to me… AH!" she began admonishingly, assuming that this little prank was over already, and was caught off guard and tackled to the floor with a thud, pinned under the older Winchester faster than she could twist out of his hold. At least the motel room was carpeted because otherwise, this would have hurt like a motherfucker. The wind was knocked out of the girl nonetheless as she landed.

"Aw, too bad. I almost gave you a passing grade," the hunter smirked triumphantly as he held her hands down firmly – and thus the knife, her only weapon, too.

He was heavy and quickly making her feel trapped. She felt like she couldn't get another breath back into her lungs. Before the panic could fully set in, the blonde realized she had a tiny bit of wiggle room for her legs between his. He was underestimating her, thinking that he already had her beat. She brought up her right knee as fast and hard as she could, kicking him right in the nuts from below and behind. That got to hurt.

"Ah… fuck," Dean groaned in pain, finally rolling off of her and pressing his palms to his jewels as he fought the stars that burst into his vision. Definitely not how he had imagined this little exercise going.

The blonde was pissed alright. Alla wasn't one for revenge under normal circumstances, but right at this moment she really wanted to give the hunter a taste of his own medicine. Maybe teach him a lesson to not fuck around with her next time.

Alla wasted no time in getting on top of him while he was distracted, holding the knife right to his throat, just shy of drawing blood. Externally she might have looked like a fearless Amazon, strong and fierce, but internally she hated every second she still had the knife in her grasp.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, it's me!" his eyes widened in fear for a moment, thinking that he might have taken this experiment a little too far. He tried to get his arm free to reach for her wrist to prevent her from slicing his throat, but his arms were pinned by her thighs. She was able to exert a surprising amount of force with them, despite her small frame. If worst came to worst, he knew he could easily buck her off, but that would risk her landing badly and hurting herself so he would have liked to avoid that.

"I know, you asshole! Don't fucking do this to me again!" the girl huffed furiously without hesitation, knowing that she was probably moments away from being thrown. She wasn't stupid, she knew he was much stronger and more experienced than her. In any case, she punched him in the shoulder just to show him how upset she was before she finally got off of him.

"Where did you learn that move?" Dean asked, thoroughly impressed, checking his neck for bleeding.

Though he was fairly sure that the girl was aware that if he had gone full out, she wouldn't have stood a chance against him, he was actually very proud of the way she handled herself. Definitely not a complete rookie in hand to hand combat. He wouldn't be making the mistake of holding back if they were to spar again that was for sure.

"Self-defense class," Alla snapped, taking big, deep breaths to try and calm herself back down. Her heart was racing still with the adrenaline, and the fact that he was sitting there on the floor infuriatingly grinning at her while she paced wasn't helping with that at all either.

"Nice outfit, by the way," the older Winchester teased, trying to lighten the mood.

"It's Sam's," the blonde remarked sharply, glancing down quickly and noting that yes indeed she was still in his boxers and T-shirt, but she was way too agitated to feel embarrassed about being so scantily clad in front of Dean at the moment.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," he snorted, earning himself a glare that easily rivaled Sam's. _They were indeed made for each other_ , the hunter remarked internally with amusement. King and queen of the bitchface. Though he supposed calling her that would be more on the offensive than banter side of things.

"Why on Earth would you do this to me?" she cried out a few moments later, still peeved and unable to get over the fact that Dean had just practically attacked her. Perhaps this was something the brothers did? To keep each other on their toes? Sparring, testing each other to make sure they stay sharp? "If you were looking for Sam, he went for a run five minutes ago."

"I know. We ran into each other in the hallway as he was heading out," Dean said nonchalantly, which honestly just pissed the blonde off even more. So she had been the target all along.

"And scaring the living daylight out of me since he isn't around to be my knight in shining armor seemed like the best course of action so early in the morning?" Alla inquired further incredulously.

"Figuring you'd be sticking around for a while, I had to get a feel for just how far into basics we would have to go in training. You know, to make sure you could handle yourself in case something happened and we weren't around to stop it," Dean shrugged, still not seeing anything wrong with what he had done. Especially since she took care of him like a pro. No blood, no foul, right? Actually, it was him who was bleeding he realized, sucking the little cut on his pinkie finger. Not to mention his still throbbing crotch. He believed he should be the one whining.

Alla froze in her place hearing that. Right, he had been rambling on about her almost passing or something. So he was testing her. In a way, his intentions were sweet, his heart in the right place. Preparing her for their world, out of concern for her safety. But geez, this was so not the way to do it.

What's more, she was starting to get fed up with the way the brothers were able to pass on so much information between themselves with barely any words or none at all. They couldn't have had more than a minute to talk before he decided to ambush her, but apparently, that was enough for Sam to hint at parts of their conversation from last night. Like her not wanting to go home. Also, if Sam had been aware of what Dean was planning to do, he was going to get a piece of her mind shortly too.

"Hey, you okay?" the hunter asked suddenly, noticing the bags under her eyes, and that she was a bit too pale for his liking. Which could have been from the fright that he had given her for all he knew, but he just genuinely wanted to make sure she was all right. On second thought, tackling her probably had taken this a step too far, considering everything she had been through in the last couple of days. Checking to see if she actually paid attention to their secret knocks should have been enough as a first quiz regarding the hunter life.

"Yeah…" Alla sighed as her anger started to evaporate. She ran her hand through her hair, attempting to comb the knots caused by their tousle out before she elaborated. "Just didn't get too much sleep last night."

"Good for you guys. It was time Sammy finally saw some action," Dean laughed as he clambered up off the floor. As far he knew, Sam's last time to let off steam was probably last year, in the back of the Impala with that waitress chick named Piper. Oh, the irony.

"We didn't have sex, Dean, not that it's any of your business," the girl gave him a scathing look.

"Then what could have possibly kept you guys up all night?" Dean looked at her, clearly puzzled.

"Talked. Mostly. There might have been some hugging too. We kinda needed it after the 3 AM nightmare situation we had," she admitted shyly, making sure to keep her phrasing neutral to not reveal which one of them had the nightmare and needed comforting, just in case Sam didn't want to share it with Dean. Though she highly doubted that.

"Girls," the older Winchester huffed with a roll his eyes. Sometimes he really wondered if Sam did indeed stand for Samantha. "Come on, get dressed, you deserve some pancakes after all this."

* * *

Even with two shirts and two sweaters layered on, Alla shivered when she joined Dean outside. She had absolutely no freaking idea how Sam wasn't freezing to death as he did his laps in just a T-shirt and pedal pushers. _Though the activity in itself and his muscly build probably helped to keep him warm_ , she supposed.

Unfortunately, his apparent immunity to cold in no way prevented her from sneezing in the barely forty-degree weather.

"Bless," Dean grunted as he pushed himself off the Impala that had been parked right in front Sam and Alla's room, observing the blonde and her distinct lack of a jacket with a frown. "Aren't you dressed a bit lightly?"

He was comically brotherly in a way, and it made the girl smile to herself while her back was to Dean as she locked the room up.

"All my warm clothes are in Virginia. Didn't think a quick trip to Florida warranted my winter coat, November or not," Alla explained, rubbing her arms for friction and warmth.

"Could've taken Sam's, he obviously doesn't need it right now," the older Winchester winked with humor as he took off his own to lay across her shoulders.

"I didn't want to be presumptuous," the blonde shrugged her arms into the offered jacket, pulling it closer around herself as they started walking. Just like his brother, Dean didn't seem to be bothered by the cold, but he had a thick plaid flannel and at least two shirts on underneath.

"Right, because colds are so much more fun than apologizing," he teased with a roll of his eyes, bringing her to the crook of his arm, squeezing her to his side.

"Ow, ow, ow…" the blonde hissed in pain as Dean rubbed the material of her clothes into where her skin was still tender from being worked on with an armada of needles last night.

"Did you get hurt when I tackled you?" the hunter eased up on his hold immediately, frowning with guilt and concern as he checked her over.

"No… uhm… there's just a fresh tattoo on there," Alla admitted embarrassedly, suddenly worried if Dean would take the fact that she had an anti-possession tattoo now the wrong way. Sam hadn't been too keen on the idea at first yesterday. Though she guessed if he was already planning training routines, then Dean wouldn't be upset with her.

"When…? Wait a minute…" puzzlement and shock bloomed on his face before he put the picture together. "You didn't, did you?"

"As a precaution. I had a feeling that with being around you guys, it wouldn't hurt," she smirked teasingly.

There was just a flicker of dark emotion across Dean's face – he didn't need a reminder of the dangers associated with the Winchesters – before he pushed it down and returned her jive.

"Now who's not getting presumptuous, huh?" the hunter ruffled the girl's hair, trying hard not to think of the fact that she was quickly becoming like a little sister to him. The last time he had let anyone form such a bond with him it ended with tragedy. Charlie was dead because of them.

"Says the guy who tackled me to the floor on the presumption that I'd be sticking around," Alla returned the banter with ease, giggling. In hindsight that hadn't been so bad, just the initial shock of it.

"I wasn't wrong though, was I?" Dean laughed out. It was tough to stay somber around the Ukrainian girl when she was in her element, joking around and bantering.

"Oh, shut up," the girl playfully shoved him in the side. Not even two days ago she had found the brothers intimidating, and although there wasn't a shadow of doubt in her mind that they were indeed deadly – to monsters, that is – Sam and Dean were also very comfortable to be around once they let their defenses down just a tiny bit.

They walked past reception and Dean gently guided her towards the exit of the lot, much to her surprise. _What about Ivy?_ Alla got worried when she realized they would be leaving her behind in the other room.

"Hey, how's Ivy? Are you sure it's fine to leave her?" she asked with a quick glance up at the hunter's face.

"Yeah, her fever broke during the night, and she wanted to sleep a bit more until she could. I don't think Mr. Husband-of-the-year is able to torture her when he is asleep, so she got a little bit of a breather," Dean told her. From his demeanor, the Ukrainian girl could tell that the temporary improvement in her friend's condition did nothing to alleviate his concerns for what was to come. It was evident that he took everything to heart, especially his duty – saving people from the supernatural – and times when those he cared about were in danger. Somehow Ivy managed to wriggle herself into both categories in his mind.

"How are we going to make it to Kansas though?" Alla asked softly as if reading his mind.

"I don't know, Allie, I don't know," the older Winchester shook his head.

He was hoping they could get at least a hundred or two miles behind them before Aaron started noticing the growing distance again, and deal with the rest as they crossed those bridges. He knew Ivy would insist on sticking to their original plan anyway.

There was a diner just across the street from the motel, so they didn't have to go far, fortunately. Dean had them sit down in the booth in the far corner of the room from where he had a good view of the main entrance, but they were also relatively close to the kitchen and thus the back exit, their backs protected.

The blonde recognized the tactical advantage of their seating arrangement and also that yesterday when he had Sam by his side to watch his back he had been much more relaxed with something as simple as getting food. With just her around, he was alone essentially. She wouldn't be of help if someone or something were to attack them right now. She hated this feeling of being useless and a liability.

"Allie?" Dean called her name, snapping her back to reality.

"Sorry, was just thinking," Alla cleared her mind with a slight shake of her head, realizing that the waitress was already there looking to take their order.

"What do you wanna eat?" the older Winchester repeated his question.

"Uhm, just coffee with milk, please. Thank you," Alla said with a small smile to the plump, middle-aged woman who was on the clock this morning, called Mable.

"Are you sure, sweetie?" the lady asked, smiling at her kindly, probably noticing the dark circles under her eyes. "Joe, back in the kitchen, makes some mean waffles if you ask me."

"No, thank you. My stomach hasn't quite woken up yet," she replied just as cordially, noting Dean's disapproving frown from the corner of her eyes. He didn't say anything though. At least not until they were alone.

"Alright, let me know if you change your mind," Mable nodded nonchalantly.

"I'd like some scrambled eggs with bacon and sausages on the side. Coffee, black. Plus we'd like an omelet, coffee and a short stack to go. Also, brownies if you have any," he rattled off the impressive list.

Alla smiled to herself at the fact that he remembered Ivy's choice of comfort food. She would have given anything to be a fly on their wall to witness as they sorted out their issues because apparently, they were both very much into each other. Ivy's feverish ramblings were proof enough, just as his tender caring too.

"Coming right up," the waitress jotted down the order, leaving them with a small smile as she turned around.

"What?" Dean asked as he noticed Alla's grin.

"Nothing," she shook her head fondly. She didn't think her intervention was needed.

"You really should eat something, we won't be stopping early just to get food into you since you skipped breakfast," he said. The mild admonishing tone in his voice was almost amusing.

"I know," she replied quietly, looking out the window on the busy street. She never really ate in the mornings, that wouldn't be changing now either whether Dean was pestering her about it or not.

Silence sat upon them for a few minutes, under which Dean kept watching the blond girl. He realized that she hadn't eaten much till lunch the day before either, which now he assumed might not be a fluke. In either case, something was bothering her right now for sure, maybe whatever nightmare had kept them up during the night.

"So what was it this time? Jess or Lucifer?" Dean inquired out of the blue after their breakfast had arrived and they were left to their privacy again.

"What was what?" the blonde played dumb. Mostly to mask her astonishment at Dean's two main guesses over what Sam's dream could have been about. _Lucifer? Seriously? The Devil himself? Just what the hell the brothers had been through?_ She had an inkling of a feeling that they might have been through Hell quite literally too.

"The nightmare," he clarified with a knowing look between big mouthfuls of food.

Alla watched in amazement as he practically inhaled those eggs. Not that she was one to talk, she was a very fast eater herself, courtesy of her three years in a slave camp. They never had enough time to eat between having to go over to an entirely different building – by buses nonetheless since they weren't allowed to walk even that short distance – and waiting in lines to the buffet carts.

"How do you know it wasn't me who had the nightmare?" she challenged as she carefully sipped on her coffee, grimacing at the bitter taste and dumping a packet of sugar into it.

"Wild guess. You look more exhausted than distraught," the hunter shrugged. Of course, based on the minute glimpses he had gotten regarding her past, he knew that it could have very well been her with the scary dreams, but he just had a gut feeling that this time that wasn't it.

Alla thought her options over. Dean wasn't wrong. And he knew that he wasn't wrong, so there wasn't fooling him. Also, he was obviously concerned for Sam. She just didn't want to break any unspoken promises of confidentiality she might have given by getting Sam to open to her. She didn't know what the brothers did or did not like to talk about with each other. Or when for that matter. If Sam was anything like her, then he liked to keep his problems mostly to himself until he had enough time to process them.

"If I'd have to pick, I'd put my money on Jess," he elaborated minutely to prompt her to talk.

"Why is that?" the Ukrainian girl asked, genuinely interested what would make the older Winchester jump to that conclusion, no matter its validity. How was a dead lover more haunting than Lucifer, if whatever their dealings with him made Sam have nightmares?

"You kinda look like her," Dean casually revealed.

Well, that was a shocker. The surprise was evident as daylight on her face, and that was all the confirmation Dean needed to know what was going on with Sammy. He was aware that his brother must have told her at least something about Jess for Allie to react with such recognition at that piece of information. Why would he have done that voluntarily if not for an overheard nightmare?

Alla looked down at her coffee and took a big breath once the initial confusion at the possible implications of that revelation wore down. The girl refused to let self-doubt or insecurities crawl their way into her head. Her resemblance to Sam's long dead girlfriend had nothing to with his current interest in her. She wasn't sure what Dean's purpose was exactly with this, but she didn't really want to hear more of it.

"Dean, I know you guys are close, and you are merely trying to look out for him, but just talk to him instead of trying to get information out of me behind his back by revealing things he might not want to share yet. He will tell me when he wants to. And I don't need the warnings if this was an attempt at that either," Alla said levelly, looking into Dean's green eyes to make sure he knew she was serious.

"Huh," he huffed with a small smile, obviously pleased, though she didn't know with what. "Definitely not the response I expected. We gotta work on your poker face a bit though."

The blonde's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"If this was another test, so help me God…" she gritted her teeth. And her poker face was just fine, thank you very much, she just didn't know she was supposed to keep her guard up with the older Winchester.

Dean put his hands up in surrender, trying to placate her.

"No more tests, promise," the hunter laughed, shoving the last piece of sausage into his mouth. He approved of her feisty spirit. "Let's bring these back. I'm sure Sam is starving by now."

He grabbed the bag with the Styrofoam containers of their take-out, leaving the payment for their meal on the table as he ushered the seething girl towards the exit.


	11. Take me somewhere new

**Chapter 11 – Take me somewhere new**

 _Avril Lavigne – I'm With You_

* * *

Sam rounded the corner to the motel in a comfortable, cooldown jog, stopping to stretch for a minute outside of the room before fishing his key out of his pocket, knocking and entering. The ugly brown – yet surprisingly effective – blackout curtains were still drawn, so he flicked the light on as he closed the door behind himself to illuminate the room. With a quick glance around, he noted Alla's absence, though it was no surprise to him.

He was glad his brother had already been up and coming over to find them before he had headed out for his run. It was kind of perfect, Sam wouldn't have been able to plan out the morning better even if he had tried.

It had been a simple equation really. On the one hand, Dean had wanted to go get grub. On the other, Alla had wanted to go get grub. Without much deliberation, Sam had arranged to send them off together, thus ensuring his peace of mind by having someone keeping an eye on the girl to make sure no trouble found her while he got his morning run in. A win-win all around, especially if Ivy was still asleep and he had gotten his – no doubt antsy – brother out of her hair too with the same move. Two birds, one stone.

Maybe it was last night's revelation about his abhorrent track record with love interests ending up dead that had him spooked, but he just had this… _feeling_ … that something terrible might happen to Alla. _Not on his watch_ , he vowed.

The younger Winchester grabbed a bottle of cold water from the mini-fridge and took a generous swig, relishing the rehydration even though this one was a relatively short run for him. He had barely broken a sweat, but they had to get a move on so it would have to do for now. The younger Winchester was just about to head to the bathroom for a quick shower when he heard the rattle of keys outside. His right hand automatically went for the gun at the back of his pants as he turned his attention towards the door, keenly listening to the conversation that erupted until he identified the voices on the other side. They weren't exactly keeping it down, so he was able to hear every word clearly.

"Do the knock first, Allie, or we are going to get a gun in our faces," Dean grumbled impatiently, not too eager for that prospect. Sam stifled a chuckle, shaking his head at the profound truthfulness of the statement. He released his hold on his gun, eagerly waiting to see how the argument unfolded.

"Stop bossing me around. I bet Sam isn't even back yet," Alla retorted, sounding just as irate. It made the younger Winchester wonder what had happened to tick her off so badly since – based on their brief acquaintance – the girl was pretty level-headed at most times, or at least avidly avoiding conflict when possible.

"Don't count on that," his brother huffed, knowing Sam all too well. The little shit could run for hours, but if they were in a hurry, he could also pack a full workout into just twenty minutes.

The shaky attempt at inserting the key into the lock paused for a second as their secret knock was rapped against the door with all the mocking and frustration the Ukrainian girl was probably feeling channeled into that one deed.

"Happy now? Go pester Ivy or something, and leave me be," the blonde said just as she opened the door finally.

Even though he had just eavesdropped on Alla and Dean bickering like siblings, Sam was definitely not expecting the positively livid scowl on her face. Whatever the issue was, she was taking it to heart.

The girl stopped in her tracks as she caught sight of Sam, taken aback for a second since she had indeed not been anticipating him to have returned yet. Before she could have said anything in ways of greeting, Dean beat her to the punch with a wide grin on his face.

"Guess what, Sammy! Allie has the nutcracker down to a pat!" Dean boasted as he set the plastic bag full of breakfast goodies and Sam's coffee on the table.

Sam had no idea what his brother had meant by that, but Dean seemed very pleased with himself for finding that fact out about her. Or more like proud of _her_ if his quick glance to the blonde as he patted her shoulder was anything to go by. There was also just a hint of pain in the way he crinkled his eyes as he recounted the memory, which honestly had Sam even more confused.

"Yeah, guess what, Sammy?" the girl repeated with a derisive huff as she moved away from the man's touch, continuing before Sam even had a chance to correct her that only Dean got to call him that.

On second thought, he realized that the bitchy comeback would just have added fuel to the flames at that moment, so he counted his blessings for not getting the chance to say it out loud.

"Your brother is a jackass!" she exclaimed with resentment, grabbing her amenities bag with way much more force than was strictly necessary, and headed off towards the bathroom. She slammed the door behind her, almost hitting Sam in the face since she hadn't realized he was turning to follow her to find out what was wrong.

Suddenly, the pieces fell into place for the younger Winchester, and his eyes went wide with comprehension. _Did Alla seriously kick Dean in the balls? Why? What had happened to bring that on?_ Sam tilted his head to the side slightly as he glanced back from the bathroom door to his brother, his eyes full of accusation as he tried to read him.

"What did you do?" he questioned in bewilderment.

Before Dean could answer the bathroom door flung back open, the girl sticking her head out with narrowed eyes, trying to decide the best way to formulate her inquiry.

"Does Dean greet everyone you guys meet with early morning physical and psychological evaluations?" the Ukrainian girl cut in.

Her biggest concern was whether Sam had anything to do with her morning ordeals, or even if he just had prior knowledge of it at all. At this point either option would have probably earned him a hard punch in the shoulder, she was just that furious. Siccing his brother on her would be wholly unacceptable, and a warning would have been welcome even if it hadn't been his idea.

The complete and utter bafflement that bloomed on his face told her everything she needed to know. Her anger quickly deflated, replaced by self-reproach. She really shouldn't have doubted him, she knew. Sam was far too kind to suggest initiation rituals of this sort. He would have eased her into it, trained with her a couple of times before the idea of testing her on anything they had gone over until that point would have even crossed his mind.

"What? No!" Sam said sincerely and equal outrage, setting his hands on her shoulders calmingly before he glared at the older Winchester, demanding explanations. "Dean, _what the hell_ did you do?"

"Well… there might have been a live exercise involving standard security measures and a quick self-defense lesson…" Dean tried to downplay his earlier encounter with Alla with a goofy, embarrassed grin and shrug of his shoulders that kind of said "my bad" but was far from a real apology.

"Don't forget the diner and your little experiment on whether I would crack under the pressure of an interrogation," the blonde amended flatly.

And just like that, everything made sense suddenly. Sam could picture the whole situation play out. Dean messing up the knock on purpose as he came to collect her to see if she was paying attention. Alla probably noticing that something was off, cautiously opening the door with holy water and maybe a silver knife in hand, and then Dean pinning her to the wall or something to prove how wrong that move would have been, had it been a real monster. He could see how she would struggle against Dean's hold in his mind, and could almost pinpoint the exact moment the ensuing panic would have kicked in. Nothing surprising given her issues with feeling trapped. Maybe that was when the swift kick to the groin came in, probably a desperate measure to get free. Sam had no sympathy for his brother for that. He kinda deserved it.

No wonder Alla was pissed as hell. He would have been too in her position, on the receiving end of early morning pranks. But Dean was his brother, not a practically complete stranger he had known for less than 48 hours. And he wasn't a girl either, facing off a guy nearly sixty pounds heavier than her. She must have been terrified out of her mind. Sam could even imagine what the interrogation must have been about. Him. Sleeping in a different room while on a case was just as foreign and jarring to Dean as it was to him. It didn't take a genius to figure that he would want to find out whether everything went down okay during the night. Or maybe he was just trying to get juicy, intimate details to tease his little brother with later. Either way, messing with his girl was unacceptable.

"I asked you to keep her safe and to start thinking about what would be the best way to get her up to speed, not jump her when she opened the door!" the younger Winchester admonished exasperatedly.

"Hey, she did well! I mean _really_ , really well! And see? She didn't get hurt. She was safe at all times!" the older hunter defended lamely.

"Except she wasn't exactly aware of that at the time, was she?" Sam knew Dean and his antics way too well, a very similar scenario popping into his mind from the time when Dean came to fetch him from Stanford.

His older brother was a bit like their father in this regard, believing that the best way to learn was by actually doing. Building up muscle memory. Making sure you'd made every mistake only once and while still in "training." In other words, getting tossed straight into the deep end. And he was surely not going to pull his punches now, not after losing Charlie. Dean had regretted not getting her more prepared for the life a thousand times over.

While the brothers were arguing, Alla quickly gathered all of her stuff – her meandering two pieces of clothing and toiletries that had been lying around – into her bag. The idea of getting refreshed or even brushing her teeth was thrown out the window. She hadn't realized that jumping in on Dean's flippant comment would lead to the brothers' head-butting with each other. This wasn't the outcome she had desired at all, even if Sam coming to her defense was sweet, but she just couldn't listen to the siblings' squabble anymore. She had always been quick-tempered, but it also always faded almost as fast as it came and now the steadily raising voices around her just made the atmosphere stifling.

"Give me the key to your room. I'm gonna get Ivy up and ready, while you guys sort this one out among yourselves, okay?" the blonde suggested softly, desperate to get out.

"Alla, wait…" Sam's attention was on her instantly, his primal need to take care of her overshadowing everything else.

"I'm fine now, just… no more surprises, okay?" she sighed tiredly with the weak deflection, the fact that she hadn't slept enough catching up with her fast.

"Sweetheart, hunting is full of surprises and unexpected turn of events, most of which just turn shit into even shittier. If you can't handle that…" Dean butted in with a severe face, prepared to go on a whole new spiel regarding the family business. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was hoping she would choose the smart option and get out before she got irreversibly sucked in, even if it meant a little heartache for Sam.

"I know!" Alla snapped at him exasperatedly before catching herself and toning her voice down. "I know, but can we just focus on Ivy for today? We can figure out where to go after we made sure her douchewad husband isn't going to kill her with his freaky supernatural remote control."

The girl sighed, pausing for a moment because she knew she couldn't really blow off this confrontation either, even if she really wanted to. "I mean, we haven't even actually talked about me staying with you guys. Not that I don't want to, but shouldn't that be a conversation first to see what everyone's expectations are before going into this? Whether there's even a capacity in which I could be useful to you guys and not just freeloading before everyone starts jumping their guns regarding training and tackling me to the floor around every corner?"

"Wait a minute. You _tackled_ her to the _floor_? She is like half your size and has a healing tattoo on her shoulder, man!" Sam latched onto the most inconsequential detail of that rant.

Alla sighed heavily again. For whatever it was worth, this little scene forced her to realize that she absolutely loathed the idea of the brothers fighting, especially over her. She vowed that she would do everything she could to prevent a scene like this happening again from now on.

 _A quick_ _note to self: Tattling on Dean's shenanigans, either accidentally or purposefully were both a definite no-no in the future._

"Yeah, you could have given me a heads up about that!" the older Winchester retorted angrily, matching Sam's tone.

"Okay, chill the fuck out, everyone!" Alla cut in sharply, already feeling a headache coming on from all the barely contained shouting around her. She was surprised none of their neighbors had started banging on the walls yet, complaining about the noise they were making so early in the morning. "Geez, do you guys seriously let random girls come between you like this?"

"You are not a random…" Sam began to answer the rhetorical question, but the blonde quickly interrupted him.

"Shut up, Sam. I'm not finished," she stated pointedly, taking him by utter surprise with her assertiveness. Just because she was usually a conflict avoider, it didn't mean that she didn't put her foot down from time to time. "I'm fine. I'm not angry anymore, you don't have to defend me. And you Dean, just communicate next time, hm?"

Alla could tell that Dean didn't exactly understand what she was getting at.

"If I am to stay, then I'm supposed to feel safe around you guys, right? That means that you can't do things to me without my consent, or I won't be able to trust you," she glanced at Sam then back at the older Winchester, seeing their expressions turn ashamed at her statements.

 _Oh boy, this was a regular occurrence in the Winchester household, wasn't it? Just how many times had they done things behind each other's backs or flat-out gone against each other's wishes?_

She sighed wearily before she continued, getting a strong sense of déjà vu. Was it really just yesterday that this issue had arisen with Sam as well? Seemed like a lifetime ago. "If you think surprise training sessions – or whatever else you come up with later – are what's going to get me prepared then tell me. Discuss it with me. Then _I'll_ decide if it's something I want or if staying with you guys is not a good option for me after all. I'm done with people deciding things for me without consulting me first!"

Deafening silence settled upon them. Alla had left the boys speechless apparently. _No smart-ass wisecrack from Dean either? That's gotta be a world record._

"Good talk, glad to have this out of the way…" the blonde muttered after a minute. "By the way, it's a courtesy you should also give each other too."

"Allie…" Dean spoke up first, finally a hint of apologetic tone coloring his voice.

"It's fine, Dean, really. We are good," Alla said with a small smile that suddenly turned into a knowing smirk. "I think your throbbing crotch is a good enough lesson and punishment already."

The girl winked at him conspiratorially, laughing out at the dismay that appeared on his face at the reminder. She quickly grew somber though from the expression on Sam's face. Ultimatums and threats of leaving were a low blow for sure, but she needed them to understand that she wouldn't tolerate being manipulated.

"Hey, I'm not going anywhere. It's not that easy to get rid of me," she reassured him, taking a guess at the source of his anxiety.

"Maybe it's not in your best interest to stay though," he said with a sad look on his face.

"Well, it's something for me to decide, isn't it?" Alla grinned at him cheekily, trying to drill the notion of not taking her choices away into their heads.

"I don't even get a say in it from now on?" Sam's mouth curved into an amused smile despite himself.

"Not unless you don't want me anymore," the blonde stated.

Despite the things Alla had said during her outburst, she wasn't sure there was anything short of his flat-out refusal that could get her to leave Sam anymore. She was seriously falling for him fast and hard, and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it.

"I just don't want you in danger," the younger Winchester confessed, confirming all his fears out loud.

Alla's heart was aching for him, and she stepped closer, circling her arms around his waist. His shirt was a bit clammy with sweat, but she couldn't come to care about that right now.

"That's not something you have total control over. I could be in danger with or without you for all you know. Wouldn't it be better to keep me close so that you could do something about it?" she proposed, looking up into his eyes.

"How very comforting," the sardonic comment left his mouth before he could stop it. He circled his arms around her anyway because honestly, he was about just as powerless at resisting her as the tides were against the gravitational force of the moon.

She reached up, taking his face in her hands. She wished she could take away all of this apprehension that was plaguing him.

"Sam. It's going to be okay. I'm not afraid," Alla asserted, not a shadow of doubt in her mind. There hadn't been anything in her life she had been more sure of.

The girl got on her tippy toes to press a reassuring kiss to Sam's mouth when Dean loudly cleared his throat, effectively breaking the magic of the moment between them.

"Khm," the older Winchester quirked a brow at them, utterly unamused by the display of affection right in front of him. Seriously, they were acting as if he wasn't even here. He had to realize they probably _did_ forget for a moment about his presence.

"Get lost, Dean," Sam quipped with a quick glance in his way, miffed by the interruption. He was promised kisses upon his return, and all he got so far was a seriously pissed off girlfriend because of his brother's nonsense. He was severely disappointed and intending to collect what was his sooner rather than later.

"Fine. Car in ten minutes or I'm leaving your sorry asses here," the older Winchester threatened with all the seriousness of an angry chipmunk.

"Sounds good, Dean," the younger brother mumbled with a grin, already engrossed in Alla's eyes again.

Dean grabbed the brownies for Ivy, then left with huffs and grumbles about annoying little brothers in his wake as he closed the door forcefully behind himself. Sam and Alla chuckled simultaneously as they shared a look, pressing their foreheads together.

"We probably should get ready," she suggested reluctantly.

"Yeah, we should," he agreed, though not moving a muscle to break away from her.

"You kinda stink," the blonde crinkled her nose teasingly, earning herself a scandalized look from Sam.

Before he could voice his protests to her assessment, she pressed herself closer, claiming his mouth as hers finally. Despite the salty tang of sweat on his lips, it was everything it promised to be, and more. The world could have probably ended right beside them without notice, they were so absorbed in each other. There was no tentative gentleness as he kissed her back either, one hand holding her by the waist, the other snaking up to firmly cup the back of her neck to keep her in place as he dominated her mouth. She moaned, left breathless within a minute, forcing her to pull away way too soon to catch her air.

"Go take a shower, Sam," Alla nudged with a playful smile. "There's breakfast on the table waiting for you when you get out."

Truth be told, Sam was starving so he couldn't really come up with a counterargument in favor of continuing their impromptu make-out session. Not right then anyway, but he had a feeling this wasn't his last chance yet.

* * *

The roller-coaster-like constant fluctuation of ups and downs that had characterized their early morning permeated into the second stage of their road trip.

It had started out just fine, if not surprising, with Dean tossing the keys of the Impala to Sam again without so much as a word. He had opted to play it safe and keep Ivy company in the back, even though she was doing better that morning. The brunette had been able to get ready without assistance, only a mild lingering headache reminding her of last night's torture. As needed as that reprieve was, Dean had a feeling it would be short-lived.

Well, as predicted, the lucky streak lasted for about two hours, after which Dean was thanking all that's holy for the few self-activating ice packs he had a mind to stock up on and stash in the footwell of the back seat. He had wrapped one in a towel and placed it on the girl's forehead to keep her temperature at least somewhat in check while Ivy rested with her head in his lap.

 _Good morning to you too, Aaron._ At least he wasn't an early riser, allowing them to get a head start. They were well into Kentucky by the time the hardcore worsening of the symptoms hit.

With the help of the various cooling methods Dean had devised – including pills and fluids and whatnot – and his constant supervision Ivy had stayed stable enough, so they hadn't had to take unplanned pit stops till almost 10 AM, around Wickliffe, close to the Kentucky-Missouri-Illinois border over the Mississippi. Which was awesome because they were cutting it close on time as is.

The tentative status quo ended just a little while after their first gas station break when the brunette asked for them to switch to the radio instead of Dean's Metallica cassette tape because the heavy metal was getting a bit too much for her pounding head.

"Well, you know, house rules," Dean glanced at Sammy knowingly, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as if he had been waiting for a decade to use that line again. "Driver picks the music…"

"Don't be a jerk, Dean," Sam interrupted him flatly with an unamused expression on his face, complying with the brunette's request and popping the cassette out, fiddling with the buttons to find a decent station. "Besides, you are not driving. You are not even riding shotgun."

Dean's grimace told quite a tale about his opinion regarding that arrangement. But the girl in his lap clearly required constant monitoring, and it had been his own decision to take on that role anyway. After yesterday's near-puking episode he was sure they wouldn't get anywhere far with Alla sitting in the back, and it also seemed kind of cruel to suggest breaking up the lovebirds – especially since he was trying to avoid pissing the blonde off even more after the morning's misguided mishaps. So that left him in the back by the process of elimination. Although that didn't mean he had to like it.

"Sorry," Ivy mumbled listlessly, shifting a bit to hide her face in Dean's plaid shirt in embarrassment. She knew the situation was less than ideal and that Dean was sacrificing a lot of his ironclad habits to accommodate her. If she were to make it through this, she vowed to make it up to the hunter in any way she could. That pie she had been thinking of would just have to be the start.

The annoyance the older Winchester felt at being stuck in the back seat melted away instantly as he glanced down, hearing and seeing the raw vulnerability of the girl in every little gesture of hers.

"How's the head?" he asked, running his hand lightly through her sweaty hair. Her fever was starting to climb again, and he had a feeling he wouldn't be able to do anything about it once her husband decided to really put his mind to this little game of his again. This was just the warm-up exercise.

The brunette shrugged noncommittally. The bit of silence was like heaven, but she didn't want to tell them to turn the music off altogether. That would have left them with two very bored and worried hunters with nothing to even remotely occupy their minds as they ate away the miles. She had a feeling that was something to be avoided.

 _Isn't anyone trying to find me?_

 _Won't somebody come take me home?_

Right in that instant, the music came back on, and Avril Lavigne's I'm With You had just started playing on the station Sam deemed decent enough for his tastes. Hearing the familiar lyrics made Alla perk up from her curled up position by the passenger side window.

She'd been very quiet and withdrawn this whole time too, though as far as Sam could tell sleep had eluded her despite her best efforts. She had also been muffling an odd sneeze or two in her sleeve, which made him wonder if she was feeling alright or possibly coming down with something.

"No, no, no, Sammy. We are not listening to pop-rock," Dean's head snapped up at the exact same time, though with the complete opposite reaction of dismay.

"Don't change it, please," the blonde pleaded quickly, placing a hand on his thigh. She then twisted towards the back, catching Ivy's eye, wanting to make sure she was awake and aware of what had come on the radio. "Ivy, it's our anthem."

The other girl's mouth curled into a tiny smile of acknowledgment despite how shitty she felt. Satisfied with that reaction Alla promptly turned back forward, closing her eyes and letting the music wash over her for a minute.

"You know the house rules, Dean," Sam smirked as he glanced into the rearview, finding the cold-served brotherly revenge way too sweet. "Driver picks the music, shotgun – but especially the back seat – shuts his cakehole."

"Yeah, more like driver sucks up to shotgun in hopes of some little late night quid pro quo," the older Winchester grumbled, though the vehemence had evaporated from his tone after seeing that Ivy was enjoying herself somewhat too. He was starting to develop a real soft spot for the girl.

"Someone's using their fancy Latin, I see," the driver laughed at his brother's miffed mood. "Come on. It's not _that_ bad."

By this time a whole verse had gone by, and Alla was quietly singing along with the chorus as she focused on the scenery of shrubbery and wheat fields to the right on High Way 62 after they crossed the Cairo Bridge.

 _It's a damn cold night_

 _Trying to figure out this life_

 _Won't you take me by the hand?_

 _Take me somewhere new_

 _I don't know who you are_

 _But I... I'm with you_

 _I'm with you_

She wasn't an excellent singer per se, but with the barely whispered words her version sounded like a lullaby, something she would sing to herself at night to ease the throes of nightmares. The younger Winchester also couldn't help but feel that there was a distinct reference to him in this song for the girl by his side.

While Sam's attention was divided by the road and the blonde on his right, Ivy quirked a brow at Dean who – despite all the grouchy quibbling he had put on for a show not even a minute earlier – seemed to be enjoying, if not rocking out quietly, to the tune.

When the older Winchester realized that he had been caught, he pressed his index finger to his mouth conspiratorially, begging the brunette to keep this little scene a secret between them. She seemed amiable enough with that course of action, finding this newly learned tidbit about Dean way too endearing to share with the class yet. Her very own sneak peek on all that's Dean Winchester. Tough façade on the outside but all heart on the inside.

The little lull of good-humouredness lasted until they hit I-57, on which right after Charleston they ran into a massive traffic jam.

"What's the holdup, Sammy?" Dean kvetched, wishing internally that they had taken backroads instead like they always did. Nothing good came of the interstates. Ever.

"I don't know, Dean," Sam gritted his teeth, just as irritated as his brother was, but counting their blessings that it was him driving in this gridlock instead of Dean. The older hunter tended to handle the constant start and stop with the patience of a Chihuahua, accelerating way too fast then inadvertently slamming on the breaks jarringly to avoid colliding with the car in front of them. Like that would do either of the girls any good at the moment.

Alla, deciding that she wouldn't risk nausea in the almost complete standstill, looked up traffic reports on her phone, trying to find out if there was an accident or something that caused the pileup. It was too late for the morning rush hour by now, and she doubted lunch time warranted traffic like this on the interstate.

"Truck spill about ten miles ahead of us near Sikeston," the blonde announced as she skimmed through the headline of the latest report pertaining to their current area.

" _Great…_ " Dean groaned, followed by a sigh. "Any way we can escape this hellhole?"

"We can get back on 62 in five miles," the Ukrainian girl supplied helpfully after a quick check on Google Maps, though she could tell even that was way too long in a traffic jam for the older Winchester's tastes. "No intersections before that, sorry."

"It's not your fault," the guy waved her off from the back seat, trying to occupy himself by making Ivy more comfortable instead of working himself up to a high blood pressure induced stroke or heart attack.

It turned out that the intersection that was supposed to be their salvation was completely closed off because of another accident. Three cars had collided in their hurry to get off the interstate highway. Go figure. Alas, they had no choice but to slowly inch their way all the way to the spill and hope that nothing else happened that would impede their steady 80 miles per hour from there on out because Kansas was still roughly five hundred miles away with barely six hours left to make it.

"Son of a bitch," Dean commented in a deadpan manner when they finally laid eyes on the notorious turned-over truck in the trench. With crates of semi-broken Jim Beam bottles and what they could only guess as hundreds or even thousands of gallons of whiskey soaking the concrete and earth everywhere.

"Wow. Never, _ever,_ say again, dude, that I'm the one wasting your booze," Sam chimed in with wide eyes.

"Pull over. I'm sure there are a bunch of not so broken bottles all over this place," the older Winchester exclaimed already sizing up the area to see how he could snatch up a few free helpings of the stuff.

"Dean, I'm not stopping so that you can loot whiskey off of a truck spill. We are going to be late as is and the cops are here," the younger hunter asserted, stepping on the gas pedal as they finally made it past the bottleneck of the lanes near the accident after spending nearly an hour on a piece of road that should have taken them about ten minutes.

"Seriously? You are worried about the cops? Of all things?" Dean narrowed his eyes at his brother.

Before he could get an answer, the brunette in his lap decided to put her two cents in regarding this topic of conversation, instantly derailing it.

"So glad I'm not the one who's gotta file the paperwork for this one," Ivy mumbled with a smile in a half-asleep state, equally amused by this particular happenstance even if it had delayed them quite a bit, thus putting her at even more risk. Her time was ticking and who knew when it would run out.

"What?" the dirty-blond haired man looked down confusedly at the girl.

"I work as an assistant from home for an environmental company that handles spillages like this in the DC tri-state area," she explained with a frown, for some reason equally baffled by the reason why Dean wouldn't know this. _Hadn't she told him already? Or was that Alla?_ She couldn't remember.

"Really?" the older Winchester asked, intrigued by any information the brunette cared to share with him. Though not her intention, Ivy had remained sort of a mystery to him all this time. They hadn't had too much time to talk between the constant sleeping and feverish ramblings.

"Yeah. Though whiskey is not even the weirdest shit that gets regularly spilled on the roads… Even shit is not the most bizarre shit that gets spilled on the road… There was a truck with $70,000 worth of bull semen once… Or one with ten thousand gallons of fat," the brunette muttered on, finding it harder and harder to concentrate on a singular thing or even filtering the cuss words from her speech.

Her mind was running off on tangents without her consent, which incidentally hadn't evaded her faithful guardian's attention either. He pressed the back of his hand against her forehead, noting what he had already known.

"Sammy, how about we find a nice backroad and floor it?" Dean suggested not so subtly, even though they were now able to keep a nice steady pace. He didn't trust that it would be without interruptions though.

"Unfortunately, the fastest route is the one we are currently on," Sam said, casting a worried glance to the back from the rearview, catching his brother's eye.

They didn't have to say it out loud. No more stops except for gas, and they were gonna eat in the car. Their only hope was waiting for them in a motel of their choosing, and they had no idea just how long that someone would be willing to tolerate them being late.


	12. Someone stole the starlight

**Chapter 12 – Someone stole the starlight**

 _Candlemass – Witches_

* * *

"May I just address the elephant in the room… or rather car?" Alla spoke up a little after they had crossed the Kansas border, unable to keep her thoughts to herself anymore.

They'd been quiet and on edge for about an hour now, ever since Ivy had lost touch with reality from the fever and the pain, first mumbling semi-incoherent – but far from subdued – pleas for them to make it all stop then shutting down completely. They were still almost two hours away from the Motel 6 on Route 400 at the eastern outskirts of Wichita that was their destination, so they really needed a distraction of sorts right about now. Might as well be mindless chatter.

"What do you mean?" Sam paid her a quick glance before returning his attention to the road.

"Isn't it a bit ironic that we are meeting a witch in Kansas of all places?" the Ukrainian girl mused out loud, propping her head in her palm, elbow comfortably resting on the edge of the window sill as she watched dirt road after dirt road leading to farms swish past them. The sun was slowly starting to set in front of them, painting the sky in purplish orange hues, granting an almost romantic tinge to their setting.

"What made you think we are meeting a witch?" the younger hunter quipped with a tiny smile. Alla's ability to see through everything never ceased to amaze him. Always quick on the uptake. He liked that.

"Come on, Sam. Pure logic. Who would know more about spells and hexes and that sort of stuff than someone who is practicing it? Call it a witch, warlock, wizard, sorcerer or whatever you may," the girl cast a condemning glare at Sam for the stupidity of his question before quietly stifling a sneeze into her right shoulder. She was past denying the presence of her cold to herself, though fortunately, it seemed like a mild one at that, so she wasn't going to draw attention to it voluntarily. They had bigger problems to contend with. "So about that wicked witch in Kansas…"

"Wait till you realize Oz is real," Dean decided to add his two cents, way too amused by the turn of this conversation to keep from butting in.

"Oz is real?" Alla whirled backward faster than lightning, searching Dean's face to see whether he was pulling her leg or not. Even though not knowing him for long, she came to the understanding that he was notorious for verbal teasing.

Folklore and mythical creatures were one thing, but fantasy books too? Or maybe just the one, the writer unable to resist jotting down his experiences with the supernatural in ink on paper. Sifting through everything she had ever known, and deciding what was pure fiction and what had even an inkling of truth to it would be her next big project it seemed. Good thing the Bunker had a near endless supply of reference books on the supernatural. Or so she had heard.

"Yup," the older Winchester quipped, enunciating the _p_ sound with a pop of his mouth. His eyes were hard set in a scowl as the memory of Charlie's first death resurfaced in his mind, unbidden. With that also came multiple layers of guilt. For letting an angel possess Sam without his knowledge or real consent among other things, though at that particular moment in the past they would have lost Charlie even sooner than they had in the end, had Gadreel – masquerading as Ezekiel – not been present. So in a sense, he couldn't come to regret that decision. It had also saved Sam in the long run, even if months of distrust and brotherly quarrel were the immediate results of his actions once it had come to light.

"So we are actually meeting the Wicked Witch of the West?" the blonde asked for clarification, glancing between the brothers as she slid back into her seat, still floored by that revelation.

"Well, we _are_ meeting a witch who is quite wicked in my opinion, but no, the Wicked Witch of the West is thoroughly dead," Sam replied with a small smile.

"Has anyone told you before that your lives are weird?" the Ukrainian girl shook her head in amazement. She had a feeling that the brothers' story would fill several volumes of books if it was ever written down. The Winchester Saga. Or Chronicles. Or even Gospel, she supposed, if one wanted to put a religious spin on it.

"Tell me 'bout it," Dean huffed with a roll of his eyes. And the girl didn't even know a fraction of it yet.

"Does this witch have a name?" she got back on topic, trying to find out everything about this mysterious person who was supposed to cure Ivy.

"Rowena," Sam supplied tersely, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter.

Alla noted the obvious tension present on Sam's face at the mention of the woman, but she decided to file that information away for later examination. At the moment, she didn't really care what history he and Dean might have had with the witch. The name in itself was much more fascinating due to the hardcore fandom-y and nostalgic feelings bubbling up inside her at a book series that had provided her a much need comfort and escape in her early teens.

"If the next thing you are going to tell me that it's Rowena Ravenclaw coming to our rescue, I'll honest to god lose my shit," the blonde looked between the brothers in mock-seriousness, settling on the older Winchester since he seemed like he was about to say something.

"Who?" Dean asked in confusion instead, apparently not getting the reference, while Sam laughed out loud, the hostility he felt earlier evaporating in an instant.

"Harry Potter is not real as far as we know… Though there was Hitler who had made a soul cache similar to Horcruxes back in the day…" the younger brother explained, still chuckling, pleasantly amused by the mental association Alla had made.

He was eagerly anticipating the long talks they were inevitably going to have, picking her brain about ideas he never dared to bring up with his brother. He dismissed most attempts at anything remotely philosophical.

"By the way, I killed Hitler," the older hunter perked back up, cutting in again, looking quite damn pleased with himself for that feat.

"Good for you…" Alla absentmindedly acknowledged his deed, her brows drawn in confusion at how that was possible before turning back to Sam. "So this Rowena… is she going to be able to help?"

"Able? Probably. Willing? That will depend on whether she sees something in it for herself," Sam turned grim again as he remembered the numerous double-crosses the redhead had pulled on them in regards to Lucifer, Amara, the Book of the Damned and countless others.

"She's an evil bitch and let's just leave it at that," Dean grunted, having his own issues with the woman in relation to Crowley and what not. Rowena had tried getting them killed or turn on each other on more than one occasion. Not that he harbored any particular sense of loyalty to the demon, just the fact the redhead tried to play them against each other was enough to warrant the animosity.

"The evil witch bitch… I can roll with that," the girl shrugged nonchalantly after testing the phrase, eliciting a small chuckle from Sam.

All humor ceased in the car when Ivy shifted uncomfortably in Dean's lap, looking around with slight panic.

"Dean… did someone steal the starlight?" the brunette asked quietly, her eyes darting everywhere, unable to focus on a single thing.

"What do you mean, princess?" he asked confusedly. It wasn't even dark enough yet for the stars to start appearing in the sky – with civil twilight just about beginning – let alone them disappearing for some reason. He wanted to chalk this up as another one of her delirious ramblings, but he had a feeling that the situation had become much more dire than that.

"I can't see. Everything is black," she stated weakly, her alarm swallowed up by the general exhaustion that she was feeling. All she could do was close her eyes again to counter the disorientation her lack of sight had caused.

Without any prompting, Sam floored the gas pedal. He figured he could cut the remaining hour and a half drive down to maybe one with a bit of luck and daring. He just hoped that no police chase would ensue due to his speeding. That would be a complication utterly unwelcome at the moment.

* * *

A national motel chain that advertised having the lowest price of them all necessarily invoked the need for standardization thus… well… looking the same and boring as hell, donning the crème and orange color scheme everywhere. This particular Motel 6 the Winchesters and the two girls were pulling into had an unusual accessory near its reception entrance though.

A petite framed redhead stood up from the steps where she had been sitting – sulking, based on the look on her face – when she spotted the unmistakable black '67 Chevy Impala roll into the parking space right in front of her. Her dress stood out like a sore thumb in a run-down place like this. A royal blue gown more fitting for a ball than the side of the road, covered only by a long black cloak. With the vintage square suitcase by her feet, the woman honestly resembled the witches and wizards waiting to board the Hogwarts Express at platform 9 ¾. Really the only thing missing was a pointy hat on the top of her ginger curls to complete the look. Alla assumed the image Rowena projected was deliberate because she was about as far from blending in as Baby would in a supermarket parking lot, in a sea of Priuses.

"Stay in the car," Sam instructed in a no-nonsense manner. The blonde still wanted to argue, despite the look on his face, afraid to be abandoned in the Impala without so much as an explanation and be kept in the dark about what was going to happen. "With Ivy, just until Dean and I sort out a room and make sure Rowena isn't going to hex us into next Tuesday, okay?"

Alla reluctantly nodded in concession, glancing wearily between the brothers, then she climbed over the back of her seat to the brunette as Dean clambered out of the car along with Sam.

Even though the Ukrainian girl was crouched down in the footwell as she checked Ivy over, she could clearly hear the conversation going on outside.

"Yer late," Rowena complained with indignation to Dean, casting a quick glance after Sam as he went to the front office to secure a room for themselves. Possibly two. Staying the night was practically inevitable at this point, no matter how close they were to the Bunker. He had a feeling Ivy's case wouldn't be a quick fix.

"Well, excuse us, Your Royal Highness. Having a cursed and sick girl in the back seat does come with unexpected stops to be made," Dean quipped back sardonically, crossing his arms. They had given her a general rundown of their problem over the phone, so she was aware of the gravity of the situation. No need to get testy.

The witch regarded him with narrowed eyes for a good few minutes just out of spite, right until she heard Sam's unmistakable and approaching footsteps.

"No time to waste 'en, reit? Shall we?" she declared in a thick Scottish accent as she spun around her heels, grabbing one of the room keys from Sam's hand, and sauntered off towards the right direction with her luggage in hand.

Sam just shook his head slightly at the theatricality, while Dean scowled at her retreating form. The younger Winchester went to the back door of the car, opening it for the girls.

"So… a Scottish witch. Are you still claiming Hogwarts has nothing to do with this?" Alla tried for some levity even though she was worried out of her mind, and it showed on her face too.

Ivy was positively burning up and unconscious, but at least she was still breathing. The Ukrainian girl got out the car and shivered in the cold weather, rubbing her arms while Dean leaned inside to gather the prone frame of the other girl into his arms.

The blonde offered to help Sam with their gear while Dean headed straight for the room.

"Hey, are you okay?" the younger Winchester asked Alla when she subtly sneezed again for the umpteenth time that day.

"Yeah…" Alla cleared her throat, deciding to admit to the truth since she was confronted. "Khm, just a bit under the weather I guess."

"Why didn't you say something?" Sam gently admonished, cupping her cheeks to make her look at him. The girl leaned into his touch, welcoming the warmth his large hands provided.

"I think we have enough to worry about as is," she said sternly. Her cold was the last thing on her mind honestly.

"Doesn't mean you have to hide if you're getting sick," he leaned in and kissed her forehead, inconspicuously checking for fever. He was happy to find none.

"I wasn't hiding, just not openly publicizing it," the girl muttered half-heartedly. Hard to hide when locked in a car with three other people for twelve hours.

"Yeah, you were," Sam countered with a teasing smile as he got their duffels out, handing the lightest one to the girl on her insistence to carry something.

Alla sighed, not at all amused. "I didn't deny it when you asked."

"Yeah, you didn't, and I'm glad for that. You're already a better patient than Dean," the hunter conceded, closing the trunk shut and placing his free arm across her shoulder, simultaneously drawing her closer and providing some warmth as they walked towards the room too.

Shopping for warm clothes. First priority once Ivy was out of the woods, Sam decided. In the meantime, he was going to keep on eye on Alla, maybe sneak an Advil or two her way, along with tea and tissues whenever he could.

* * *

In the motel room, Ivy had already been placed on one of the beds, Rowena busy checking the runes that were disguised as a birthmark on the brunette's right shoulder.

"It's Don's work alreit," the witch commented with a huff as she straightened after having ascertained what they were dealing with, giving Alla a long assessing look as she and Sam entered, making the girl shudder.

Whereas Sam's ability to see the very essence of her being filled her with warmth, Rowena's penetrating gaze lacked anything gentle or caring. Everything this woman did was self-serving, charged with an angle or agenda. Alla almost didn't want to know what the witch had seen or made of her, but staying in the dark could potentially be dangerous in the long run.

The redhead glanced at Sam then back at the girl with a calculative smirk on her face as if she had just figured out something crucial and possibly blackmail worthy.

"Yer looking a bit peely-wally there, darling," Rowena greeted Alla with an (un)healthy dose of sickly sweet, false politeness and concern. "Do sit afore ye fall ower."

The blonde saw right through the pretenses, but the older hunter cut in before she had a chance to respond. Not that she really wanted to say anything. Rowena made her skin crawl with distrust and alarm. She swore she could feel the magic crackling in the air of the room, rubbing up against her, pricking and prodding.

"Hey, eyes over here. Focus on the task at hand," Dean snapped at the witch, then cast a quick, wary look to Allie, already regretting bringing her into this. The notion was evidently shared by Sam as well if his frown at Rowena's sudden interest in his girlfriend was anything to go by.

They should have just set the blond girl up in the adjacent room that they had also booked for the night. Though they had a feeling staying put there was not something she would have agreed to, and they couldn't very well lock her inside. That would have been the very definition of undue stress for someone struggling with the sense of being trapped.

The redheaded witch's face fell, the spurious smile melting away, and she gave the older Winchester an annoyed look, but she did turn her attention back to the patient before her.

"I suppose I can whip up a concoction 'at will dull th' curse's effects on 'er," she shrugged noncommittally, rolling her eyes. "But I'll need ye to fetch some ingredients I don't have at haind."

"What do you need?" the younger hunter instantly got a pen and paper out of his pocket, ready to jot down the list.

"Lit me see," Rowena ostentatiously gathered her thoughts on what she needed before speaking up. "Verbena…"

"Seriously? You can get that like in any herbal shop," Dean interjected with a raised brow. He had been around enough witchy stuff, spells and such to know that much. Not exactly a specialty item.

"Mah usual spells don't require it, an' am not in th' habit of carryin' mince I don't need," the redhead explained derogatorily like it was something self-evident.

Alla had a feeling Rowena was a person who took almost any comment made to her like a personal offense. Like she was better than everyone and even making conversation with the lowly "commoners" was below her.

"Translation: normally she is not in the business of healing people, hence the lack of need for medicinal herbs," Alla pointed out acerbically, realizing a moment too late that drawing attention to herself was not in her best interest. She had a feeling that big mouth of hers was going to get her in a lot of trouble one of these days.

As expected, a split second later every eye in the room was on her, for varying reasons. Sam wasn't even that surprised anymore that the blonde had something of value to input, but couldn't help to smile a bit at her observation. She had hit the nail right on the head. Dean was flabbergasted and almost questioned the girl on what and how she knew of witchcraft. Rowena, on the other hand, was steadily growing interested in her for more reasons than one, but she smartly kept that tidbit to herself.

The witch could only imagine the overprotective and accusatory reaction Sam would have if she had said anything about the irregularities she sensed from the girl's aura for instance. That is if the way he hung close to her was any clue as to how he felt about the blonde.

"What? We have herbal tea at home. I read ingredients," the Ukrainian girl innocently offered as an explanation.

No one said a word, but they were still intently looking at her. It was getting disconcerting. Alla looked to Sam for support, but despite the small, resigned smile and shrug she got in return, she decided that she better shut up from here on out. The blonde hugged herself tightly, and sat down on the other bed, intent on being just an onlooker from now on.

"Anyhoo…" the redhead cut the silence, deciding to get back to business. "I'll need thyme, groundsel, aconite… celandine, alkanit, althea, hydrangea… hyssop an' lily beside that. Better split that up 'n' git oan it. Chop, chop."

With a twirl of her hands, designed to usher the Winchesters out, the witch considered her orders given, and began rummaging through her luggage, setting up a bowl and the supplies that she needed.

Sam was visibly uncomfortable with the idea of leaving Alla all alone with Rowena, but patently time was of the essence. He had no idea how much longer Ivy could hold on before the curse fever consumed her. And they would actually get done much faster if he hot-wired a car and visited their hunter connection in town for the rarer items, while Dean snagged the ones he could from an herbalist or something because those – given how common they were – wouldn't be in their friend's inventory. Or vice versa. Sam didn't care. He didn't say anything though, letting his brother make that call if necessary.

"That's all?" Dean inquired incredulously. Didn't exactly sound like a convoluted spell so far. Which made him extremely distrustful of the solution they would be given.

"Thir's plenty ithers needed, but I hae those in mah personal collection," Rowena assured him conceitedly, patting her suitcase.

The brothers shared a look and one of their silent conversations, seemingly agreeing to indeed split up and get this over with faster.

Sam didn't dare ask Alla if she was alright with the arrangement, the fact that he cared about her was already painfully too obvious, and he didn't want to give any more proof of that to the redhead. So he just gave a terse nod to her, lips in a thin line with worry as they turned to exit the room.

"Don't let her do anything funny," Dean ordered Allie with a stern look and warning gesture towards Rowena. The blonde wanted to huff in disbelief at that. As if there was anything she could do to stop a powerful and not strictly trustworthy witch if that particular witch decided to turn on them. But she refrained from voicing those concerns or showing emotion on her face to play along in case this was a bluff on Dean's part or something.

Funnily enough, the redhead did cast a wary glance her way at Dean's words. Alla got a distinct feeling that there was something she was missing. Why on Earth would Rowena feel the need to size her up? Or maybe the witch just feared the Winchester retribution if she did anything to harm the two girls who were seemingly under the protection of the hunters.

The shutting of the door brought the Ukrainian girl back from her reverie. There was so much she was ignorant of, especially about the history present between the boys and Rowena. But this was not the place nor was the redhead the person to ask these questions from. Not with the undoubted pressure to share something in return if she were to engage in conversation with Rowena.

Instead of giving the witch a chance to initiate a conversation – and possibly extort information out of her – Alla sprung from her place, heading to the bathroom for a cool washcloth to put on Ivy's forehead. Keeping busy was an excellent way to deal with stress.

By the time she returned, Rowena was already fiddling with her ingredients on the table, sorting vials and pouches of all kinds of herbs and other – less innocent looking – components like rat's tails and eyes of newt. How very cliché. And Shakespearean. You could almost picture the orange wall behind the beds as the luminesce of dancing flames under a bubbling cauldron. Though she supposed Macbeth had nothing on this. Rowena was unlike any literary witch Alla had ever encountered.

They worked in silence for a while, Alla fussing over her friend, adjusting and readjusting the blankets and the small towel on her forehead over and over again to distract herself from her own discomfort and the occasional curious glances the witch had been throwing her way. Rowena was dutifully mixing the ingredients she already had, seemingly respecting the girl's boundaries and leaving her alone. Right until she decided to break that silence that is.

"Yer a peculiar one, aren't ye," the witch droned on seemingly innocently, casting a sideways glance at the blonde, though the girl knew better than to engage. "I bet Th' Sisters o' th' Three Auroras would murdurr to git thair han's on ye."

Despite her best efforts, that statement gave Alla a pause. She had no idea what the bloody hell The Sisters of the Three Auroras were, but just the mere fact that someone would kill to have her chilled her to the bone. And that had nothing to do with the low-grade fever she had possibly developed over the last half an hour or so.

"Perhaps they already 'ave…" Rowena trailed off with a devilish smile as something occurred to her, taunting the girl. The blonde's increasing dread threatened to boil over, making her hands shake slightly, only quelled by her firm grip on the edge of the bed. She was wondering if it was time yet to scream and leave this fucking place.

Before Alla could react, a key was shoved into the hole of the door, the Winchester brothers entering. She almost sighed in relief. The girl wasn't sure how much longer she could have kept her walls up against Rowena and resist asking what she had been talking about. Or to pretend that she didn't care or was already aware of everything the witch could tell her. Though she supposed, now she had to put up another front, hiding just how rattled she was from Sam.

"Here's everything you asked for," Dean said, placing a bag full of little boxes stuffed with different herbs down on the desk. "Now, can you heal her?"

"Heal her?" the witch scoffed disdainfully. "That's outwith mah remit am afraid."

"What? You said if you have all this stuff…" the older Winchester accused furiously, just about beyond himself with worry. Alla's head swiveled to the conversation too, her own woes and problems instantly forgotten in favor of focusing on Ivy.

"Na na na, I said I will mak' a potion that will dull th' curse's effects," Rowena corrected him with a wiggle of her index finger.

"Which are what exactly?" Sam interrupted the quickly escalating shouting match. They had a vague idea based on symptoms and deductions they had made, but a confirmation would have been nice.

"Th' mark is… is lik' a soul binding… designed tae mak' her dependent oan th' bearer," the redhead began to explain with wild hand gesticulations. "Th' bearer's capable o' affecting her physically thro' thair own emotions an' thoughts. Also, tae hae a sense o' wher she is, tae assert thair will. Simply put tis aboot control 'n' punishment."

"He can tell exactly where she is?" Dean's head snapped up at that, glancing at Sam. They were woefully exposed in a motel room like this then. They hadn't even laid down their customary wards yet. Aaron could be anywhere, free to ambush them, take Ivy hostage. Though he supposed in a sense that was already the case. Though at least the fucking asshole wasn't aware of the brothers' involvement yet, or so Dean hoped. That gave them an edge at least.

"General direction 'n' distance, not a locator spell," Rowena corrected, to which Sam nodded, having guessed that much already. He didn't like that he was right though. They were still findable by triangulation if Ivy's husband got close enough.

"You realize, Aaron had practically commissioned a supernatural version of Munchausen syndrome by proxy?" Alla chimed in, horror and disbelief on her face as she turned to Sam and Dean. How could someone do this to another person? "Ivy had told me that they would fight sometimes, or she would go out to meet friends, and then when she would inevitably get ill, her husband would swoop in, take care of her, and everything would be suddenly all fine and well between them. Meanwhile blaming it on 'multiple chemical sensitivity syndrome.'"

"Her guidman haed this put oan her? Ferr impossible. It haes bin oan her fur at least..." the witch shook her head in confusion, making her accent even pronounced. The girl was too young to have been married that long.

"Twenty years, yeah. They had been childhood friends. Apparently, the bastard was afraid she would find someone better and more deserving if she wasn't crippled by constant illness, thus making her undesirable. So he got his uncle to put a curse on her when she was less than ten years old. That's when all her symptoms started. Then later, when she was older, he stepped in as someone who was willing to take her despite her poor health, gaining everyone's sympathies," the blonde explained with pure contempt for the man. She wasn't a violent person by nature, but strangling the living daylight out of Aaron seemed like a lovely idea right about now.

"Well, damn right she could've. Practically anyone would be more deserving than that son of a bitch," Dean agreed, though he wasn't entirely sure he would make that list with the things he had done in his life.

"So you can't lift the curse?" Sam asked grimly, just for clarification. Rowena was the most powerful witch they had ever known. If even she wasn't able to do anything then who would? Angels? Cas? He could heal her temporarily for sure, but actually remove the mark?

"Tis a quite complex an' unique spell. I'd need Don's grimoire…" the redhead began to explain, looking quite innocent in the request.

"Ah, a grimoire. Should've guessed…" Dean huffed with a shake of his head, frowning. They should've known. This was Rowena's angle. Though if they hadn't mentioned Don Stark's possible involvement over the phone, the witch might not have come to help at all. There was a certain appeal to getting to see the work of an 800-year-old rival witch.

"Weel I don' believe Don wid be willing tae lift it fur ye, sin 'twas his nephew he did a favur for…" Rowena trailed off as she supplied another solution to their problem that was not really an option. This they agreed on.

Don Stark would never willingly remove this curse. Not with the circumstances involved and his history with the Winchesters. Not to mention they had no way of finding him either. Though given that Rowena wanted his grimoire badly, surely she knew a method or two to get his location if she put her mind to it.

"There's gotta be another way…" Sam pleaded, deploying his puppy dog eyes.

Rowena sighed. Even she wasn't entirely immune to the younger Winchester's charms. "I suppose killing th' bearer wid annul th' effects too…" she admitted unwillingly.

"Wouldn't that kill her too? Since they are 'soulbound' or what?" Dean inquired skeptically. Not that he was above ganking a human, especially since the bastard was well enough tangled with the supernatural in malicious ways to justify it. He just wasn't that willing to put Ivy's life in even more danger to do it. No matter how tempting the option was.

"That's a risk you'd hae tae taeke," the witch shrugged indifferently and turned back to finish the concoction she was commissioned to make. Grimoire or no grimoire, this little trip of hers was already promising to be worth it. The Winchesters owed her a favor, for one. A big one at that if the way Dean was looking at the brunette was anything to go by. Oh, and running into the curious little blonde was an unexpected but much-welcomed surprise too. She wasn't quite sure what the girl was yet. But she had a pretty good guess, and she intended to find out for certain soon enough.

A few minutes later Rowena faced them again with a tiny vial in her hands with a dark green liquid inside.

"This will block th' effects directed at her physically, 'n' locating her wid be muckle mair pernickety tae. Not perfect, bit it wid cloak her fairly," she announced proudly.

Dean regarded the potion with a healthy dose of skepticism and distrust. None of the ingredients they had brought had any harmful effects as far as they knew, but they had no idea what else Rowena had mixed in there from her "personal collection."

"Tis perfectly safe I assure ye. Th' Winchesters owing me a favur is tae guid an offer tae screw ye ower," she gave her assurances, handing over the container to Dean for inspection. "One o' this a day 'n' she will be healthy as a horse 'til ye decide oan th' mair permanent solution. I've prepared seven doses forby this one."

"So basically, we have a week," the older hunter rolled his eyes as he sniffed the contents of the bottle. Not that he would be able to tell if there was anything wrong with it. But this bargain just seemed like too good of an offer to be true, and that made him even warier.

Not that they had much of an option but to trust Rowena on her word. Ivy was visibly fading fast, her breathing shallower by the minute. Something had to be done now, or they might not have a chance to try anything else. So based on an instinctual decision, he strode over to the brunette's side, lifting her head up and pouring the concoction into her mouth.

The effect was almost instantaneous. Ivy opened her eyes, coughing a little at the weird taste in her mouth, but she was conscious again, and even a bit of color returned to her cheeks. Naturally, she got her sight back as well.

"What…? Where are we?" she struggled to sit up, only a tiny bit reassured by the fact that Alla, Sam, and Dean were all there, relief flooding their features at her recovery. She had no idea how she got to the place she was at, and a redheaded stranger was standing to the left side of her bed, looking way too smug for comfort.

"Ye'd better just caw canny, dear. Sleep it aff," the woman murmured insincerely with a wink, turning to pack away all her supplies.

Ivy glanced back at Dean in confusion, wanting to ask for an explanation, but before she had a chance, Rowena twirled around again, luggage in hand.

"Ye know how tae find me," the witch sauntered towards the door, clearly leaving.

"Where do you think you are going?" Dean snapped at her. There was so much to be dealt with still.

"Ye cannae honestly expect me tae bade in a dump lik' this?" Rowena offered as explanation, scandalized by even the assumption that she would be caught dead sleeping in a place like this motel. No, she deserved luxurious sheets and room service, for crying out loud. With that, she left, not waiting for anyone's permission.

Alla exhaled a breath she didn't even realize she was holding. Sam looked at her quizzically, wanting to know the reason behind her reaction.

"I'm so tired. Can we just go to sleep now?" the blonde asked pleadingly, rubbing her eyes. She _was_ exhausted, it wasn't a lie. She just wasn't ready to deal with Rowena's cryptic message yet. Her head was about to explode with how overwhelmed she felt and the weight of her cold too.

"Sure," Sam gave her a small smile, intent on also checking her over once they were alone. He turned to Dean. "You guys gonna be fine here?"

"Yeah," his older Winchester nodded after a quick glance at Ivy. She seemed wide awake now, probably due to the many questions she had swirling in her head, but he had the feeling they would be crashing soon too. He gave a suggestive wink to his brother. "Go have fun, kids."

Sam shook his head at Dean's shenanigans. As if. Even if Alla had been physically up to… well… anything physical, this was not the time. Contrary to Dean, Sam preferred his privacy, and the thin wall separating their rooms was not nearly up to the task of muting the sounds of the antics he wished to have with the girl. He took the blonde by the hand, grabbing their stuff with the other, heading out to claim the motel room next door for some much-needed rest after the day they had had.

* * *

 **A/N: The Sisters of the Three Auroras are a coven of witches originally from Poland, invented by Kevin Hearne for his Iron Druid Chronicles book series. I do not own them, but damn they came in handy for this plotline. I personally don't consider this a crossover despite this.**


	13. Just a lie away

**Chapter 13 – Just a lie away**

 _Vallis Alps – Reprieve_

* * *

Alla was acting weird. That much Sam could tell. Though whether she was just feeling unwell or something else was bothering her, he didn't know.

"Hey, c'mere," the hunter pulled her to his chest right after they had entered their room, casually dropping their bags right there by the door in favor of holding his girl.

She offered no resistance, letting her body be guided wherever Sam wanted it. Honestly, her being so pliant worried him a bit as well. Both lack of sleep and her head cold taken into account, he hadn't seen the blonde this lethargic all day. The back of her neck did feel just a fraction too warm under his touch as he gently massaged her scalp, so he assumed maybe the rising of her body temperature was the reason for her uncharacteristic behavior.

"Shower?" the younger Winchester asked, getting a mere shake of her head against his chest as a response.

A few seconds later Alla pulled away, bending down to grab some sleepwear from her bag, then she turned away, stepping up to the bed to strip off her clothes silently. She was well beyond feeling bashful at the moment. The only thing the girl craved was to just crawl under a few layers of blankets and be dead to the world for a few hours, not even caring whether Sam was watching. Which he very much was, though nothing untoward on his mind, despite her state of undress. Worriment was outwinning lust by a long mile. Yet, all he could do was stare, uncertain as to how to handle this unfamiliar version of Alla.

The blonde noticed that – either deliberately or accidentally – Sam had booked them a double room again. Even if the effort to actually smile at that fact proved to be too much to be asked of her, internally, she found comfort in it as she settled in bed, facing Sam's side. Sharing a bed again was definitely not unwelcome. In fact, she wondered if she could insist on it from now on.

The hunter sighed, deliberating the pros and cons of keeping the girl awake and getting some medicine in her. Now that she was horizontal the congestion in her sinuses became more bothersome than ever before during the day, evident by the way she sniffled every few seconds to keep her airways clear enough to breathe.

Instead of going overboard like he so wanted to, he just handed her a travel pack of tissues. They didn't have medication specifically for colds anyway, and a low-grade fever didn't exactly warrant Tylenol or Advil. He just hoped if she had a headache or something severe enough to require said pills to ease she would tell him.

"Thanks," Alla said, eyes full of surprise and confusion at the small gesture, but accepting it gratefully and taking one out instantly to blow her nose.

 _Did no one ever take care of her before?_ Sam wondered.

"Don't mention it," he watched her for a few more moments, contemplating whether there was anything else he could do for her, then decided to get ready for bed himself and join her, figuring that his presence would be the most effective in making her feel better.

It took a bit longer than just changing clothes as it was for her since he had to set up their wards in the room too, but once he made it under the covers, Alla instantly snuggled up to his bare chest. He had gambled that if she was able to be naked around him without batting an eyelash, then he could sleep in just his sweats which he much more preferred, given a choice. Seemingly, his instincts were spot on.

Instead of falling right asleep once she was in Sam's arms, the Ukrainian girl made an effort to circle an arm around his waist, and stroke his back with feather light, appreciative touch, mirroring his. Apparently, sleep hadn't been so pressing of an issue that she couldn't wait up. Or maybe, merely giving her attention where others ignored her had enough of an impact to shake her out of her momentary slump.

Sometimes, the little things counted the most. All in all, Alla seemed to be in a much better mood than just ten minutes earlier, even if she still looked exhausted. Sam wished he could kiss all her woes away. For now, he settled on burying his face in her hair.

"Hmm, this is nice," the blonde murmured contentedly without opening her eyes, just inhaling his scent that she could still distinctly make out despite the stuffiness in her head as she burrowed herself deeper into his embrace, nuzzling his skin.

That declaration made Sam smile, and he thought maybe everything was alright after all, mentally commending himself on a job well done. Just a bit of a low-grade fever putting a damper on her usually spirited self.

"How are you feeling?" Sam couldn't help himself but ask though. He wanted to actually know, not just take wild guesses based on whatever he could observe.

"Been better I guess," she shrugged evasively, still not ready to talk, even if the sweet caring helped with her mood some. "Sleepy mostly."

"Then sleep," the hunter suggested tenderly, even if he would have loved to stay up and just talk.

Funnily enough, he realized he was already missing the candid atmosphere they had enjoyed the previous night before turning in. Overnight it had become a habit he would have loved to keep up whenever possible. Sam had never felt the need to be this honest with a woman before.

"I would if you stopped talking," Alla remarked cheekily, smiling against his broad muscles.

The bantering tone relaxed the younger Winchester even further. He chuckled heartily, tightened his hold on the blonde a bit as he kissed her forehead.

* * *

In the other room, Dean had made sure Ivy had something to eat now that she was well enough to actually do so, ordering some grub from a diner not too far that did deliveries. The girl devoured almost two whole burgers. Dean was proud, to say the least. Then he wasn't above finishing off whatever was left of her meal besides his own. Perfect teamwork.

While the brunette took a shower, unassisted for the first time in almost a week, the hunter took care of their wards and salt lines, hoping very much that Sammy wasn't too distracted by a certain lovely blonde to forget theirs. He was acting like such a love-sick puppy, it wasn't even funny. The instant attraction he had seen between them was akin to how Sam used to be with Madison. _There's a morbid comparison for ya. Hope this one doesn't turn out the same way though. Sam had a knack for falling for the monsters._

The older Winchester didn't get to mull over his brother's love life too long though because Ivy emerged from the bathroom, completely distracting him. Mostly with the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra under her camisole top that dubbed as her pajama, and he could clearly see the nipples of her perky breasts standing upright through the fabric. He supposed she had some bottoms on too, but he wouldn't have noticed either way. _Okay, not true._ He probably would have noted if she didn't have any on.

Despite the fact that all throughout their short acquaintance the brunette's nightwear had been something similar every night, somehow, with her no longer being bedridden, but standing tall and strong made her look… well, there's no other way around it, damn sexy. He had adored her even at her worst, would have done anything for her pretty much from the moment she had almost puked on him, but now it was a whole different ballgame.

"Dean?" she asked sweetly, her head tilting to the side curiously as she noticed how distracted he was.

"Yeah, uhm… ready for bed?" the hunter asked lamely as he shook his shock off at how gorgeous Ivy was at that moment. Wet curly locks and all. Those actually just added to the aesthetic.

"Honestly, all I've been doing is sleep. Gets kinda boring after a while, don't you think?" the brunette broached as she sat down on her bed, towel drying her hair. It felt nice to feel clean again, with the sticky yuckiness of cold sweat gone from her skin.

"Well, you should still rest. Gotta get your strength back up," Dean pointed out, afraid that the girl would push herself too hard, too fast.

Honestly, they had no idea how Rowena's potions worked. Even if she was miraculously cured and all better while its effects lasted that didn't change the fact that she had been running a 104-105 fever less than an hour ago. And would probably fall right back into that state if they ran out of their vials. They needed to figure out what the next step would be fast.

"You're right, I suppose," Ivy conceded, her light-blue eyes catching the TV in the room contemplatively. "Watching a movie couldn't hurt though, right?"

"I guess," the older Winchester shrugged neutrally while chanting _just not a chick flick, please, not a chick flick_ over and over in his head, which was kinda hypocritical since he had seen and enjoyed quite a few chick flicks over the years. _Just psst, don't tell anyone._ He had an image to keep up.

"Something with a lot of explosions?" the girl suggested with a knowing smile, reaching for the remote and turning the device on, surfing through the channels to find something suitable

"Hah, a woman after my own heart," Dean said, seeming thoroughly appeased by the turn of events.

Ivy soon stumbled upon a channel with Die Hard currently on its evening program. _Who could say no to Bruce Willis, right?_ Even if the movie was already halfway through. A small glance at Dean confirmed that indeed he was content with the choice, grinning madly as John McClane took out a terrorist.

She settled against her headboard, feeling awkward with their current arrangement, Dean being on the other bed that is. He must have had something similar on his mind because his eyes kept drifting her way periodically, his brows slightly furrowed. There was a debate going on in that head of his for sure, warring between disappointment with the current standing of events, expectation, anticipation for it to change, but also doubt and uncertainty whether things better just stay the way they were.

The brunette realized she had to take matters into her own hands if she wanted something to happen because one thing was sure, he wouldn't be making the first move, and most certainly would not ask her to join him. Which was a bit ridiculous since Dean didn't seem like the type of person who would get all shy around women.

She deliberated for precisely three seconds before sliding off her bed and making those two steps over to Dean's, gently bumping her hip against his, nudging him to the other edge so that she would have enough place to sit.

"What…?" he looked a bit startled, primarily by the childishly energetic gesture to make him move. He did scoot over though.

"Kinda lonely over there," Ivy explained simply, burrowing herself into his side. His arm automatically came up to rest on her shoulder, pulling her closer and helping her settle in. The whole thing felt just so natural, and inherently RIGHT as if it had been a routine developed to perfection over long years.

Dean didn't say anything, just pursed his lips in a way that meant "fair enough," nodding and accepting her presence by his side. His lips were definitely something to die for – _luscious? plump?_ she didn't even know what to call them, but definitely eye-catching – and the brunette fantasized about how they would feel on hers.

The hunter caught her staring, a playful smile tugging at the edge of his lips.

"We can watch something else," he offered nonchalantly, the fact that she was not paying attention to the TV at all becoming evident to him when he glanced at her for the fourth time, and she was still intently keeping her eyes on him.

"Oh, I'm looking at exactly what I want to," the brunette murmured, her gaze flicking between his features, lingering a bit on his gorgeous green irises, taking his spiky gelled hair in before returning to his mouth.

That made him smirk even wider, for a split second, before an air of mixed feelings settled onto him.

"Khm, maybe we shouldn't…" Dean cleared his throat, breaking the eye contact reluctantly, returning his gaze to the TV.

"Dean, I think I've earned the right to do as I damn well please," Ivy stated calmly, thinking her argument through before responding further. She understood the moral dilemma alright. This thing with Dean went against all of her principles. Still, she couldn't come to care. Not after what Aaron had done. "You know, I was never one to believe in the institution of divorce," she started, making Dean shift uncomfortably. He wasn't really prepared for a heavy conversation like this.

"Marriage is sacred, and I meant my vows five years ago… The only two things that would have made me even reconsider were physical abuse and cheating. I would have been content with my life, sick and all, with Aaron. It wouldn't have mattered that he was controlling, prone to get angry, or that he didn't really care about my needs…" she sighed. "You know, like physical touch, having friends or even fun once in a while. I was convinced that that's all that there was in the cards for me, and I had to count myself lucky to even have that much…"

"You know that's a load of bullshit, right?" Dean snapped, anger pouring off of him in waves. Not at Ivy per se, just the ideas that bastard had planted in her mind, fucking with her self-worth.

"What I was trying to get at is that I don't consider myself bound by those vows anymore. Let's be honest, Aaron's actions go way beyond physical abuse, breaking of trust…" the girl said casting her eyes down embarrassedly, having misinterpreted the hunter's words. She figured he wouldn't put much faith in things like marriage or understand her reasoning on why it was such a big step for her to admit that her vows were now null and void. She needed to do this for herself to break free, throw the shackles off. Even if it was an alien concept to her and scary as hell.

"Heck, I get that, sweetheart. Believe me, I do. But do you realize that you are worth more from the get-go? Even if you were really just sick, you still deserve to be loved, cared for. You are still entitled to… to… basic human dignities," the older Winchester struggled to find the right words while pushing down his fury that kept threatening to bubble up, urging him to hunt down the bastard, even though he knew that was absolutely not an option.

"Okay," Ivy replied simply with a sad smile because honestly, she found it hard to give any credit to those sentiments.

Theoretically sure, they were true, but people rarely operated by things considered common sense when it came to rights. We wouldn't have slavery, racism, antisemitism, discrimination against the LGBTQ community, autism, or mental illness… and the list could go on forever honestly.

No one in their right mind would submit themselves willingly to a life of constant misery and constraints that came with caring for someone chronically ill. At least that was how Ivy saw it. She had lived with that reality for twenty years now, not being able to do things for herself, being at the constant mercy of those around her, and eventually, everyone grew tired of putting up with the unpredictability of her condition.

Friends drifting away after the umpteenth canceled meet up. Potential suitors getting fed up with several consecutive dates ending up as a quiet night on the sofa. Difficulty finding a job that allowed enough flexibility to work around her episodes. Even her siblings questioned whether there was really something wrong with her or she was just exaggerating her symptoms to get out of chores or other family duties.

"You don't believe me," Dean stated, somewhat hurt that his little speech had no effect on the brunette, though he carefully shoved those feelings down too.

Ivy thought it was beside the point, what she believed that is. She just wanted to put that in the past, and not think about it, honestly. Never in her wildest dreams, would she have thought that her illness was not what it seemed, that she could get – magically – rid of it. What she had now was basically a miracle.

"I just want to live my life now that I can," she stated quietly.

"Yeah, uhm, about that…" the hunter sighed. He wished they could have postponed this particular conversation until tomorrow, giving Ivy some reprieve and a chance to recuperate before the other shoe inevitably dropped. "We still gotta figure out how to break the curse. Rowena's potion just masks the symptoms."

The girl stilled, contemplating what this new piece of information meant for her in the long run. Truth be told, she already got more than she had ever hoped for. "How much time?"

"A week," Dean said grimly because that didn't really give them nearly enough leeway. Just the research, trying to find where Don Stark could be hiding out would take up most of it, if not all and more. "She had cooked up one week's worth."

"Fair enough," the brunette nodded, glancing at the row of vials on the nightstand. Seven to be exact. Those made much more sense now. One for each day. "What then?"

"Still working on that," he admitted gruffly. Three options, neither particularly viable. Dean was definitely not happy about that.

"What happens if we run out of time?" Ivy pushed further after seeing the uncertainty in his eyes.

"Our on-call witch will have to make a new batch," Dean elaborated. "Though I'm pretty sure that would come at a much steeper price."

"What did you have to pay now?" the girl wondered if there was a special currency that the members of the supernatural community used in their dealings among themselves.

"Basically an IOU," the hunter shrugged nonchalantly, even though that was probably worse than something being asked of him outright. He had no control over when the debt would become due and what the task would be exactly either. But it was in the future and vague enough that it was harder to say no to than something concrete. And it's not like they had too many options going into this negotiation, to begin with. They were desperate, and Rowena was aware of that very well, not above exploiting it.

"Did she give you any ideas on how the curse could be broken though?" Ivy followed up, hoping that they were not at a complete dead end, there had to be something more to be done. Even if a potion a day for the rest of her life still sounded better than going back to Aaron or dying. Because she was sure that just another day with her husband working her over through the curse and she would be dead. Her body just wouldn't be able to take any more.

"It boils down to the original witch willingly helping, or stealing his grimoire for Rowena to do her thing…" Dean revealed, not quite able to look the brunette in the eye.

"I have a feeling there's something you are not telling me," she said observantly, searching his face for answers.

"Because that's not an option," the hunter sternly remarks, wishing that Ivy left the issue well alone.

"Tell me," the girl pressed on.

"No," Dean shook his head.

"Dean," Ivy's tone hardened to match his. She was not letting this go.

"No. I'm not putting your life on the line on a hunch that it could work," the older Winchester snapped, finally meeting her eye again.

"What could work exactly?" the brunette asked, her voice softening after seeing just how terrified Dean was. What could possibly frighten a seasoned hunter like him?

Dean tried to resist, but honestly, it was hard not to answer when she was looking at him so earnestly. She had been manipulated all her life to bend to the will of a sociopath. Hiding the truth from her would be the ultimate way to push her away, and even though he still wasn't sure that he was worthy of her attention, he would have hated to hurt her.

"There's a chance…" he began reluctantly, continuing after a big sigh. "That Aaron's death would break the curse since he is the one holding power over the mark."

"Do it,""Ivy instantly replied, thinking that it was a no-brainer. She certainly didn't hold any sentimentalities towards the man who had virtually ruined her life, keeping her prisoner in her own body.

"No," came the resounding decision.

"I get that it is murder we are talking about…" she backtracked. That was an awful lot to ask of someone she had met just a few days ago.

"That's not my problem…" Dean looked at her amusedly. Sure, he rarely killed humans, but he was past that moral dilemma for years now. That is if the human was tangled in the supernatural and harming others.

"Then what…?" Ivy asked confusedly.

"What if your life is connected to his by this stupid curse, huh? What if he dies, you die," the older Winchester brought up the real issue finally, emphasizing his point with hand gestures and the pain of that possibility evident in his eyes.

"Well, it's a risk I'm willing to take," the girl confessed fervently.

Objectively speaking, even if taking potions for the rest of her life sounded like a great plan at first glance, it was not feasible in the long run. If it was a choice between living in constant fear or not at all, it was an easy one. Though saying she wasn't afraid of dying would have been a blatant lie.

"Well, I'm not," he snapped back, his words bouncing off the bare motel walls with an echo.

"Dean, you don't know what it's like to live this way… I can't… I can1t go back to the way things were. I would never go back to him. And he won't stop until he finds me. I'm sure of it," the brunette tried to reason with him desperately. What if after they broke the curse, Aaron still came after her? Though she supposed Dean wouldn't have qualms about stopping him in any way necessary if it came to that once she wasn't bound to him.

"I am not willing to risk your life, and that is final," the hunter reiterated, but this time there was something else in his eyes behind the curtain of defenses and fear. A promise. Or more like a vow. He would see to it that her life wouldn't be at risk anymore.

For some reason, despite the drama and tempestuous words that had just been exchanged between them, that steeled look heated her belly with want and need. It was infuriating and irresistible at the same time, and the brunette had the sudden urge to find out whether he felt the same way about her.

"Kiss me," Ivy demanded unexpectedly.

"What?" Dean looked utterly taken aback, caught off guard by the sudden change of topic.

"I said, kiss me, dammit," she repeated, not having much patience for dilly-dallying anymore. Not with this.

The older Winchester licked his lips, his eyes flicking to her mouth as his hand came up to cup the side of her face, slowly. Way too slowly if you asked her. With a last searching glance into her eyes, asking for approval, he claimed her mouth. First tender, unhurried, then picking up the pace as Ivy responded in earnest, her lips moving to the rhythm he set with ease.

The brunette was pretty sure sparks were flying around them. John McClane and his antics were forgotten entirely. They didn't even notice when the movie had ended.

* * *

Alla woke to an urgent need to cough, practically sucking her breath away. She would have turned to avoid coughing on Sam but realized that the younger Winchester was gone from beside her, so she stayed put, clenching her fist in front of her mouth as her lungs spasmed.

After her body decided to give her some reprieve she propped herself up on her elbows, looking around and trying to figure out where her man had gone off to. Strategically placed where she would definitely see it, there was a note on his pillow, offering the explanation to that particular mystery.

The blonde smiled with a little shake of her head as she sat up all the way, rubbing the sleep away from her eyes with one hand, grabbing the piece of paper with the other. A quick glance at the clock on Sam's side also revealed that it was much later in the morning than she would have thought. 8 AM. What were they still doing here?

 **Gone for a run. Back with breakfast soon. Sam**

"Yeah, who else would have left this note, silly," she smiled at the signature amusedly.

Her delight lasted exactly until the moment her memories of yesterday's events hit her like a sack of bricks, rushing into her consciousness all at once.

 _Rowena. Something about The Sisters of the Three Auroras. Being wanted. Would kill to have me. Right._ That gave her a shudder just the same as the day before.

She sighed, shifting to the edge of her bed to get up and possibly take a hot shower. That should help ease her nerves. On her nightstand, there was a glass of water, a thermometer, and some pills in bubble wrap waiting for her, with another note that she hadn't noticed during her earlier quick sweep of the room. Her eyes widened as she reached for that card.

 **For my peace of mind. You felt pretty warm when I woke up. Sam**

Alla was lost for words. No one – literally no one, not even her own mother – ever took care of her like this or showed any real concern for her since she was around ten years old. Sure, her mom didn't let her suffer or anything when the blonde was just a child, took her to the doctor's when appropriate, gave her the meds prescribed and such but never would have had the forethought to prepare anything for her daughter of her own accord. This was partially due to the fact that the woman hated sickness, sick people and such in general. It's possible that she was germaphobic on some level, but Alla didn't know. Either way, the end result was that her mom never lingered around long enough to provide comfort or give any real thought to what a sick person would need.

This became especially true after their time in the cult. Her mom had become distant after Alla's suicide attempt. Three years was a long time, and they had sort of forgotten how to be mother and daughter. The blonde knew that it had to be her fault on some level. After all, she hadn't let the woman parent her after having to cope with everything alone from such a young age. The blonde had no idea how to go back to being just a child, honestly. So her mom stopped trying, would only do things if explicitly asked of her. But Alla rarely asked, not with the reluctance she always saw in the woman's eyes. It was easier to just take care of herself.

The thermometer she had reached for felt heavy in her hands in light of those memories. Sam's caring was on the subtle side, sure. He unquestionably let her sleep in – even though he was worried and would have wanted an update – prioritizing her needs above his, which was nice. She had indeed needed the rest after all. She still felt pretty run down.

He had also made sure she had everything in case she woke before he had returned. Despite it being relatively small things, his gestures had made her more warm and fuzzy inside than anything else in her life before. It literally brought tears to her eyes.

Of course, Sam had impeccable timing. It was almost as if he had been waiting outside, carefully listening, to enter at just that exact moment to catch her crying. Alla tried to wipe away her tears quickly before he noticed. _Yeah, nice try._ Impossible endeavor from the start.

"Hey, what's wrong?" the younger Winchester hurried to the bed after depositing the spoils of his breakfast errand on their small table, crouching down in front of the girl so that he could be at eye level with her, checking her over. "Does something hurt?"

A laugh bubbled up inside her, ending up manifesting itself as a rather unladylike snort. "Yes, Winchester, your little notes took my heart and shredded it to pieces," she said amusedly, loving the fact that just his very presence made everything better.

Sam glanced at the piece of paper with a puzzled expression, unable to figure out what was the problem. The messages seemed innocent enough, what had the blonde found hurtful in them?

"I'm just emotional, sorry," Alla amended when she saw how lost the guy seemed by her teasing. "In a good way. It was sweet of you to be thinking of me."

Understanding bloomed on his face, and his thoughts immediately darkened with sorrow and sympathy, his suspicions from yesterday confirmed. He brought the blonde into a hug, trying to pack everything he wanted to but unable to convey in words into that one gesture. The urgency of it took the girl by surprise as she rested her head on his shoulder, not even caring about the post-run sweatiness. She was just going to take a shower anyway.

"You are not alone, you know that right?" the younger Winchester muttered against her neck.

"Yeah, now I do," she smiled, forgetting her worries for a second.

Then the guilt of not having told Sam flooded in. Maybe she should confide in him, right? Though realistically speaking what could he do about it? Confront Rowena? Help her research? The first was stupid, the witch would just deny ever uttering the threatening words to her, the second could wait till they got to the Bunker. No need to ruin a perfectly good day with something that could possibly be nothing. Alla was just a lie away from proving to herself that she was not afraid.

"So, Dean said there's no rush, but we should head back towards the Bunker today," Sam pulled away to give her the news, making her chuckle a bit since she had just been thinking about that. "It's only three hours away, so no real reason to stick around here when we can just come back down whenever if we need to meet up with Rowena again…"

Sam kept talking, but Alla's mind inadvertently drifted back to the witch with him mentioning her, zoning out of the conversation. All progress she had managed to make in lulling herself into a sense of security just seconds earlier flew out the window.

"I also thought we could stop by a store or something on the way back… pick up some clothes… babe?" the younger Winchester finally noticed that Alla was not listening, and also how tense she was, gripping the side of the bed as if that was all that was holding her upright. "Sure everything's alright?"

"Hmm? Yeah," she looked up, going for a reassuring smile, but ending up looking bewildered more than anything else.

Sam placed the back of his hand against her forehead, thinking that her fever must be the culprit. Alla almost shied away from the touch, hating people unexpectedly reaching towards her when she was upset, but her mind caught up soon enough to the fact that it was just Sam, no one threatening to restrain her. She didn't want to hurt his feelings, so she stayed put, though kept her eyes closed shut.

Without her realizing that Sam had moved, when she opened her eyes back up, the glass of water and one of the pills were offered to her without a word, just sitting there in his hands with a silent expectation – or more like request – for her to take them.

"Thanks…" the girl muttered, quickly downing the offered medicine, whatever it was. Probably just Advil or something. She didn't particularly feel feverish enough to take it, but Sam must have deduced otherwise based on whatever his hand on her forehead had perceived. She trusted him, but she just felt too stifled by the waves of worry that rolled off of him. She had to get away, take a minute to compose herself without prying eyes around her. "I'm just gonna take a quick shower, okay?"

The blonde stood without waiting for a reply, making a beeline for the bathroom. Once there, she leaned against the door with a big exhale, finally able to breathe again.

If only she could just shake this feeling that said she would be one of fate's next casualties.


	14. Throw every last care away

**Chapter 14 – Throw every last care away**

 _Robin Sparkles – Let's Go To The Mall_

* * *

As blissful as the almost scalding water had been, Alla forewent washing her hair this time, simply putting it up in a loose bun to keep it from getting wet, and favoring speediness in the shower instead. The blonde figured the less time she spent away from Sam, the better, even if she had honestly been in need of a little breather. Also, hogging all the hot water seemed like a poor life choice with a mildly distraught and baffled hunter – who had just returned from a perspiring exercise and in much need of the cleansing effects of the said shower – sitting just outside the door, wondering what was wrong with her. What else could he be doing? She hadn't been exactly subtle in her escape attempt.

Of course, her earlier hasty entrance into the bathroom also meant that she had not brought a change of clothes in with her, which implied either exiting in nothing more than a mere towel or putting her pajamas back on. What did it matter, really? She had already fully undressed once in front of the man once, she realized with a groan as she wrapped the scruffy motel towel around her torso. Clearly, she hadn't been particularly of right mind the previous evening. _Water under the bridge, no point in fretting over it now_ , she sighed internally as she reached for the door handle.

Sam was sitting in one of the chairs at the table when she emerged, hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees, propping his chin on his hands, clearly, deep in thought. His head snapped up at the sound of the door opening, relief mixed with concern marring his features. He had been fretting, just as she had suspected.

"Were you expecting me to collapse in the shower or something?" the blonde asked with a hint of humor to lighten the mood. She knew that wasn't the real cause of his trepidation, but diversion was her best friend at this point.

The way his eyes shifted away, slight embarrassment shining in them told her everything. _Maybe_ that one too had been among his concerns after all. Though, she supposed the way she rushed to the bathroom hadn't been too conducive to alleviating his worries. She could have been puking her guts out or got a dizzy spell from the fever for all he knew. Without conscious decision, the girl walked over to the hunter, her bare feet treading the carpet with light steps, while his gaze did not leave her for a second.

"I'm fine, Sam," she said, instinctively running her fingers through his sweaty hair in a comforting gesture.

He had worked out hard this morning, Alla realized. Definitely more intensely than the day before. She even dared to guess that there was more than just running involved. Given that they had a sort of lazy day ahead of themselves, it was no wonder that he took advantage of the less pressing schedule. She admired his dedication. Even if in his line of work it was a matter of survival.

"You'd tell me, right?" the younger Winchester glanced up at her, refusing to be sidetracked by her touch, however distracting and inviting it was. He was a man on a mission. He needed to make sure that Alla knew that he was there for her. "You'd tell me if something was bothering you?"

The blonde's hand froze for half a beat before she could reply. Sam was too damn perceptive for his own good. In a sweet and caring kind of way, but she didn't want to talk about the thing that was bothering her now. "Of course."

Based on the way Sam studied her, his eyes doubtfully flitting between her own, Alla had a feeling that she hadn't managed to be convincing at all, but he didn't press the issue.

The younger Winchester nodded, standing up with a small sigh, forcing the girl to take a step back if she didn't want to be run over by a moose. Seriously, he was so impossibly, freakishly tall, and yet it was one of the many things she liked about him. In a weird, twisted sense, she loved that he towered over her and that she had to look up at him. Both literally and proverbially. No one in her life had earned the right to be looked up to before.

"Eat something, okay?" he asked, his face mopey and almost like a kicked puppy. That expression of his should've been deemed illegal really. It made her heart clench, and she nearly broke down and told him everything right at that moment. Definitely could've been a weapon of mass destruction in the wrong hands.

He stepped around her without another word, grabbed some clothes from his bag and disappeared into the bathroom. He had closed the door gently, which was almost worse than if he had slammed it shut. Violent outbursts, tantrums were somehow more manageable to deal with than the silent rejection. The blonde sunk down onto the bed, trying to process what had just happened.

Sam didn't take well to being left out, that much was evident. Keeping him in the dark wasn't Alla's intention either. At least, not for long. She just wanted a day where she didn't have to think about the creepy comments of the redheaded witch and their possible implications. Apparently, that was too much to ask.

A violent shiver running through her and the subsequent sneezing fit made her realize that she better not sit around in a towel much longer. A cold was bad enough, catching her death was not on her agenda.

Once adequately clothed – in two leggings, two shirts, and her one sweater since she didn't really have anything else clean – she gingerly approached the table once again to examine the breakfast options.

There were lots to choose from – eggs, pancakes, and such – but Alla went with a muffin and some orange juice as she settled down in Sam's earlier spot, tucking her feet under herself. She wasn't that hungry though, just fiddling with the wrapper around the cupcake as she stared out the window absentmindedly.

The blonde wasn't sure how long she had been spacing out for, but Sam – having impeccable timing as ever – managed to come out of the bathroom at the exact same moment when her breath got caught in her throat, prompting her to turn away from the table and cough painfully into the crook of her elbow.

And it would just not stop! Sam was behind her within a flash, patting her back lightly at first, then a bit harder when he realized that his attempts to dislodge whatever was making her cough weren't working.

By the time Alla was able to catch her breath, her throat felt like it was on fire and tears had sprung to her eyes from the exertion. _How humiliating._

"Better?" Sam asked worriedly, his previous distant demeanor all gone.

The girl just nodded, not trusting her voice, then buried her face into his firm stomach, desperate for his touch and comfort. She was a lone wolf most of the time, independent and seemingly unneeding of human contact, but the one thing she could be hurt with the most was coldly shutting her out.

Somewhere along the way her brain registered that Sam was fully dressed. He had jeans on now, a maroon V-neck, and a red flannel shirt. She really liked this look on him. It all seemed freshly laundered, and Alla wished she could still smell his scent on his clothes mixed in with the detergent, but that was all but impossible now with how blocked up her nose was. _Stupid cold._

Sam surely didn't disappoint in the comfort department, his hand came up to massage the back of her scalp automatically the moment she leaned against him. This was becoming second nature to him too. Reading her and her needs without words spoken between them. He just wished she also started saying what was on her mind right about now.

"We'll stop by a pharmacy too," the younger Winchester declared quietly, guessing – not wrongly – that his girl was also sporting a massive headache.

Alla glanced up, partially to be able to take a full breath through her mouth finally, but also to gauge his mood. Not that they had been truly fighting, but she wanted to make sure that he wasn't angry with her anymore.

"I'll be okay," she rasped, ending up having to turn away and cough a little again to clear her throat.

"Yeah, because that was so convincing," the hunter gibed sardonically, shaking his head in a fond admonishing manner as he bent down to place a chaste kiss on her lips once she was done, but she pulled away before their mouths could connect.

"I don't want to get you sick," the blonde explained when he looked at her with hurt and confusion.

"I think that's a moot point with incubation periods and yesterday's kisses taken into account. If I am to get sick, I already will," Sam smirked, not caring one bit one way or the other.

Alla frowned – not too happy with that assessment – but it was the truth, and she knew it. That didn't mean she had to like it. She did not protest further though, when he leaned in for a second time, stealing the kisses he felt were rightfully his.

* * *

A ball of pure energy followed by brown curls flying through the air bounced into Alla the moment she stepped foot outside of her room. Ivy's enthusiasm knew no bounds. This was certainly a side of her friend she had never seen before. The blonde returned the hug with a small laugh, happy that Ivy was so upbeat. And also wholeheartedly relieved that Rowena's concoction was doing its job even if on the short-term.

"Someone definitely got up on the right side of the bed," Alla chimed good-humoredly once the other girl decided it was time to finally let go of her.

"It feels like I am myself again for the first time in two decades!" the brunette explained enthusiastically, guiding her friend towards the Impala, where Sam and Dean were already loading up the trunk.

"Okay, ladies, you can chit-chat in the car," Dean called to them, gesturing them to hurry up impatiently with his hand, even though they weren't in any rush.

He was just anxious to get home probably. Who wouldn't? Familiarity, comfort, safety; you only get those at home, and the boys had been deprived of that for far too long. No wonder he would want to return to it as fast as he could.

Along those thoughts came another idea to the blonde. _What other place would the Winchesters be likely to think of as home?_ The Impala. They had probably spent at least 70% of their waking life in that car if the hunting lifestyle they led was anything like she imagined. Probably many nights too. On a last minute decision, she reached for the back door of Baby instead of the front and proceeded to get in.

"What are you doing?" the older Winchester questioned her with a raised brow. The last thing he wanted was cleaning up vomit from the upholstery once they made it back to the Bunker.

"It's only a three-hour drive, right?" Alla asked, glancing quickly at Sam for confirmation, who was equally puzzled as to why she wanted to sit in the back.

"Yeah, up north from here," Dean replied hesitantly, still suspiciously regarding her.

"I can do three hours. I'll probably just sleep through most of it anyway," the Ukrainian girl replied with a shrug.

"You can do that up front in Sam's lap," the older hunter quipped back gruffly, causing her to blush a little at the mental image. It was tempting, but she had already made up her mind.

"I thought I'd keep Ivy company, and give you two some sense of normalcy. You know, no one intruding on your space and brotherly bonding… or w-whatever," she stuttered a little, unable to look them in the eye.

Dean was taken aback, trying to figure out what brought this sudden change of heart on, but just shook his head in the end. "Suit yourself."

He got into the driver's seat without another word. Sam, on the other hand, was still looking at her intently. Apparently, he wanted more of an explanation, but she didn't have one to give.

"It's fine really," Alla insisted with a reassuring smile then settled herself in the back seat, shutting the door behind her.

Ivy was looking at her with an equal amount of worry as she got in from the other side.

"Did you guys get into a fight or something?" the brunette whispered to her.

"No," the girl said softly with a small shake of the head right as Sam finally let go of the issue too – though most likely temporarily – taking his place by his brother at shotgun in front of her.

Well, technically there _had_ been something of a disagreement between them earlier, though hardly a fight and was already resolved, nothing to do with her decision at all.

Ivy didn't seem to believe her. Alla touched her hand lightly in the way of assurance then turned to look out her window as they pulled out of the parking lot.

"Hey," the blonde spoke up suddenly, her mood brightening a little as she remembered something. "You guys know what's north of here in Kansas? The geographic center of the US! Do you think we could stop by there to take a look?"

Dean broke out in a guffaw, finding the girl's penchant for random facts a breath of fresh air. It very much reminded him of Sam too, and he would never say it to his face, but he would miss the geeky trivia flying out of his mouth at the oddest times if this habit of his would suddenly stop. Hence the grumpy teasing as a cover-up, though that was just all part of the brotherly banter anyway.

"What? Did I say something funny?" Alla glanced between her three companions in confusion.

She had always wanted to sightsee here in the States. In the three years she had previously spent here, she had never had the chance, and this time before coming she had done a little research on different points of interest in case Ivy was feeling up to a bit of adventure. Realistically speaking, any such outing would have been along the East Coast. Still, Alla couldn't help but extend the area of her search, compiling a bucket list of sorts, in the hope that she would be able to return at a later date and visit those other places too.

"Nope, not at all. That can definitely be arranged," Dean replied, still snickering amusedly to himself.

"The Bunker is probably a mile or two from the monument. Though there's not much to see there," Sam explained kindly, shooting an annoyed glance at his brother. There was no need to be so rude about it. Seriously, how could she have known that they were headed right that way? What with the location being secret an all.

"Really?" the blonde said with wide eyes before turning contemplative. "Though, I guess it makes sense."

"What makes sense?" the younger Winchester asked.

"That the Men of Letters would build their base of operations in the geographic center of the US," Alla mused out loud. "Strategically speaking, I mean."

"You told her about the Men of Letters?" Dean pointedly inquired from his brother, not all that pleased with that nugget of information.

Apparently, the Winchesters didn't share every little detail with each other after all. Go figure. Though Alla remembered that Sam had mentioned something about going behind each other's backs in the past. That was undoubtedly a sore spot still.

"Oh, come off it, it's not like we aren't taking them back there, is it?" Sam groused, all the times Dean didn't trust him resurfacing. "They were going to hear of it soon enough."

Awkward didn't even begin to describe the silence that encompassed the atmosphere in the car. _Geez, who knew men could be so mercurial,_ Alla thought. _Especially the Winchesters._

She glanced back out the window as they drove through the city, wishing yet again that she had just shut her big mouth. She had a knack for saying all the wrong things at the worst moments.

A minute later something right off KS-96 caught her eye that would have been a waste not to bring up, in hopes of lightening the mood a little.

"So Sam, I didn't know you had your own club?" the Ukrainian girl mentioned teasingly.

At first, the boys looked at her with furrowed brows, but a familiar logo of the chain store to their right had Dean chortle in amusement again. A small smile tugged at the younger Winchester's mouth too, though he was trying really hard to suppress it. And just like that, the brothers were back to their badinage again. _Men._

Mission accomplished. Maybe saying everything that came to her mind wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

"What's up with Allie?" Dean asked Sam a while later. "Don't tell me you managed to keep her up all night again?" he ribbed suggestively.

Just as the blonde had predicted, she had dozed off with her head against the window just a few miles out of town, her breath coming in thick and a bit labored puffs through her mouth as if she was unable to breathe through her nose.

Sam glanced back at her girlfriend – the notion still new and unfamiliar in his mind – worriedly. Her slumber did not seem peaceful at all.

"We should stop in Salina. The girls need some warmer clothes, and I don't think we have enough food at the Bunker either," the younger Winchester suggested instead of a real answer to his brother's question.

He could easily sneak off to the pharmacy aisle and get whatever Alla would need to recover faster without raising much suspicion. He wasn't sure she really wanted Ivy and Dean fussing over her, or draw too much attention to herself. She seemed like the silently suffering type, and it was something akin to a miracle that she chose not to hide from him. He wasn't about to break that trust.

"We are going shopping?" Ivy perked up, leaning on the back of the seat between the hunters, excited to go out and enjoy her time in public without the fear of getting sick from perfumes and chemicals floating in the air.

"Seems like it," Dean quipped with furrowed brows. He wasn't really looking forward to it. Though it did give him an opportunity to take care of some other business he had in mind since yesterday morning. Better get that taken care of sooner rather than later.

* * *

"Babe, it's time to wake up," Sam roused Alla gently.

She groaned a little as she came to groggily, looking around confusedly. Wherever they were, it didn't seem like a bunker at all. Sam was sitting by her side in the back seat, the left door wide open and the other two members of their little bunch nowhere in sight.

"Are we there already?" she asked quietly, accompanied by a big yawn, blinking the sleep out of her eyes. The little cat nap she had taken was definitely not enough.

"No, about halfway. How about some lunch?" the hunter inquired.

"Not hungry," the blonde croaked, shaking her head. Honestly, she felt even shittier than in the morning, though she was not about to reveal that fact to the worried Winchester looking at her.

"Not a negotiation. Come on, Dean and Ivy had gone ahead," Sam beckoned her, already shuffling over to his door.

As they got out of the car, Alla noticed that they were in a huge parking lot, with Target on the right and Sam's Club in front of them.

"Seriously?" the Ukrainian girl quirked her brow at the younger Winchester.

"Dean thought it would be funny," the tall hunter remarked wryly. "This is going to be our regular shopping spot from now on probably, thanks to you so graciously pointing out earlier."

He didn't seem all that perturbed by that development. The blonde shivered, rubbing her arms for warmth.

"Where are we anyway?" she asked.

"Salina, just off of I-135," Sam was by her side in an instant, tucking her under his arm as he guided them towards the entrance. "Come. Even if you are not, I'm starving, and then we can get some clothes for you after."

"And Ivy," Alla amended. The brunette was just as unprepared for the cold weather as she was, and she really didn't need getting sick now that she finally had some reprieve from the curse.

"Yes, her too, geez," the younger Winchester agreed exasperatedly. As if Dean would let them forget about the other girl. His brother seemed just as enamored with Ivy as he was with Alla. "Do you ever only think of others?"

"Past experience taught me that no one really cared about what was going on with me anyway, so I learned quickly to shift my focus too," the Ukrainian girl shrugged, sighing in relief a bit once the warmer air of inside the massive store hit her skin.

It had been a painful experience to learn too. She was an all or nothing kind of girl. She didn't open up easily to people, but when she finally relaxed around someone, there was no tone-down dial for her. If that someone asked how she was, she would answer truthfully, even if the truth was rather ugly and uncomfortable. That was an urge she had come to suppress even with people close to her by now. In the end, everyone expected her to just say she was fine. No one wanted to listen to her vent about how hard she found adjusting to everyday life even after all these years for the umpteenth time.

The blonde looked around, finding the layout of the store simple enough, similar to what she was used to back at home too. There was a row of smaller shops inside on their left, along with a food court, with the checkout stations lining up on their right and the supermarket sprawling for what seemed like forever behind those.

They found Dean and Ivy already sitting across from each other at a table, two giant hamburgers in front of them in the process of being devoured.

"Nice of you to wait for us," Sam chuckled when he saw Ivy eating with gusto, much in the same manner as Dean.

"Sworry," the brunette mumbled with her mouth still full, then she quickly swallowed the bite. "We were a bit hungry."

Dean was unapologetic, just smirked up at his brother with his face stuffed like an overgrown squirrel.

The younger Winchester rolled his eyes at him as he had Alla sit down, then turned to her expectantly. "What can I get you?"

She looked around the court, assessing her options from the different stalls, knowing full-well that not eating again was definitely not one. Though it would be if she had her way. "A slice of pizza, any kind, is fine, thank you."

Sam frowned. That wasn't really much. _Better than nothing though_ , he guessed. He left to get their order with a sigh, running his hand through his long hair. Just what in the world was he going to do with her?

"What's the matter, Allie?" Dean observed her carefully. Something was definitely up with the blonde, but he couldn't quite figure out what.

"Just not that hungry," the Ukrainian girl stated again, getting tired of everyone being on her case about eating. Dean at least had the excuse of having no knowledge of her being sick.

"You didn't eat breakfast either," he pointed out. They still had most of the food Sam had taken back to their room in the back of the Impala from the morning. Great for snacks later on, or as reheated dinner, so he wasn't complaining, but still.

 _Just how the hell do you know that?_ Alla mused internally.

"Guess I wasn't that hungry then either," she said firmly, considering the topic closed. Her head was throbbing, she felt awful; she was most definitely not in the mood for another interrogation. She turned away, stubbornly looking anywhere but the pair of them.

Dean suddenly got his phone out, accessing the camera app on it.

"Allie," he said, causing the girl to glance at him again.

He snapped a picture. Her expression was somewhere between a frown and confusion on the image, but it still turned out somewhat okay. _It would do_ , he decided.

"What are you doing?" Alla raised her brows. There was not a single thing she could think of that would explain why Dean would need a picture of her.

"That's for me to know," the older Winchester quipped with a wink, putting his phone away. "And for you to not worry about."

Ivy watched the interaction in stunned silence. She had no idea what the source of the tension between her friend and the Winchesters could be. The brothers were helping them, Alla should be grateful, not antagonizing them. Though she did find the picture taking a little suspicious too. Dean had also snapped one of her in the morning back in their motel room. She thought nothing of it then – people kept pictures of their loved ones all the time even if she didn't take Dean for the sentimental type – but now she wasn't so sure what this was about.

Before the brunette could say a word of disapproval to either of them, Sam had returned with food, nudging the blonde to eat so that kind of killed the conversation.

Not another word was spoken between them until they were finished. Even Alla had managed to eat her whole slice, though reluctantly. It wasn't sitting so well in her stomach either, but she wasn't about to voice that.

"You think you can keep Barbie and Francie out of trouble till I take care of something?" Dean quipped to Sam as soon as they were done, already getting out his seat and heading out.

"Sure?" Sam frowned at him with a puzzled expression. Not that he had any doubt that he could keep the girls safe in a freaking hypermarket, but he had no idea what his brother was up to. _What kind of business did he have to take care of in Salina?_

Also, did that make Sam or Dean Ken in this metaphor?

* * *

Alla had sat down on the bench in front of the changing rooms where Ivy was busy trying on a bunch of clothes. The blonde had already selected what she wanted. A warm khaki winter coat with many pockets, two jeans, some shirts – plaid too, since that seemed like the must-have accessory for a hunter – sweaters, some extra underwear, socks and a pair of thick hiking boots. It wasn't that much but already way more than she was comfortable with accepting. Especially on fake credit cards, but as Sam had pointed out, it would be wiser if she didn't use her own money in case Aaron was tracking her or Ivy's cards.

They had been in the store for what seemed like hours, and it was wearing the Ukrainian girl down quickly, so she had sent Sam off to get the groceries he wanted while she rested a bit. He was very much reluctant to go, but Alla had pointed out that her collapsing in the middle of the store wouldn't be in their best interest and she wasn't up to tagging along with him. Not now, nor whenever Ivy was done trying on clothes.

She was hoping to keep herself together until Ivy finished, and that was already a stretch, even with the luxury of sitting down. The faster they got out of here, the better, so multitasking it was. Alla was capable of being on the lookout, with Sam's number on her speed dial in case of trouble while he went off to finish their shopping list.

Or maybe not. Her eyelids felt hot and heavy, probably due to her fever that had been steadily climbing all day. So much for a mild case of a cold. She rested her head against the wall behind her back, closing her eyes for just a second.

At least she thought it was just a second, but the next thing she knew was Dean frantically shaking her awake. He was back from whatever errand he had to run.

"Jesus _fucking_ Christ, you scared me," the older Winchester breathed in relief when she blinked at him groggily. "I thought you were knocked out cold or something. Where the hell is Sam? Ivy?"

"Right here!" the brunette's voice came from the changing booth before Alla could react, and a second later she also peeked out at the side of the curtain to see what the commotion was about. She instantly noted her friend's pale complexion and the telltale blotches of redness at her cheeks. It kinda stood out, especially with the plain white wall as a backdrop. "Alla, are you okay?"

Dean's head swiveled to her so fast that the Ukrainian girl wondered how he didn't get whiplash. He must have noticed the same signs because the back of his hand was against her forehead in the next second, assessing her body temperature. It felt nice and cool from the outside air, and Alla couldn't help but lean into it.

"Geez, you are burning up. Where is Sam? He was supposed to keep an eye on you two," he snapped. Boy, he sounded angry.

"Groceries," the blonde said softly. "I asked him to take care of that while I waited for Ivy. To speed things up."

"I don't care what you asked of him. I gave him specific orders," the older Winchester asserted, getting up from the bench and dialing Sam's number on his phone.

Ivy had changed back into her own clothes and was just exiting the booth to witness their exchange. _Seriously, these two were like fire and water, seemingly at odds with each other every time they were in the same room._

"Now you just sound like a drill sergeant, Dean," Alla admonished at first, but then groaned and her face contorted in pain. The world was starting to spin uncontrollably before her eyes. She bent forward and placing her head on her arms across legs to stop the dizzy spell. "I don't feel so good."

Her friend was by her side in an instant, worrying over her. Meanwhile, Dean got ahold of Sam and told him to haul ass right back to the clothes section.

"What is it? The pizza? Do you need a bag to throw up in?" Ivy asked, already rummaging through her purse for one. Good thing she hadn't cleaned it out yet. She always used to carry a couple of plastic bags around with her whenever she left the house, just in case a particularly intense wave of nausea hit her while she was in town.

Alla just shook her head, not trusting her voice to speak right now. This position was really not helping with refraining from coughing, so she straightened up reluctantly, glancing between the two pairs of worried eyes on her. She closed her eyes, not in the mood to deal with them, she just wanted to lie down and sleep for a while.

"She is acting awfully like you were just days ago. Could she be cursed too?" Dean questioned Ivy. Though how would she know? She wasn't the supernatural hunter.

"I don't think so?" the brunette felt equally lost. Aaron had to specially commission the spell to be put on her. He wasn't the witch, though who knew whether he was still in contact with Don Stark. The fact that he had access to all sorts of personal effects of Alla's back in the guest room of their house was not comforting at all.

Now that Alla was thinking about it, her shoulder was hurting, she realized. _Could it be…?_ Dean seemed to have similar things on his mind because he pulled the collar of her sweater away from her neck to take a peek at her back and shoulders. No weird runes, but he did find something else.

"Well, congratulations. Your tattoo is infected. Where the hell did you get this thing anyway?" the hunter lectured gruffly. Her behavior made so much more sense now. She must have been feeling pretty sick.

 _Oh, fuck. Tattoo aftercare._ It had utterly slipped Alla's mind these past few days. That would explain why she was feeling so shitty with a simple cold. She hadn't even been sneezing or coughing that much today aside from the early morning. She wasn't even that congested, it made no sense that her fever was so high.

The realization made her chuckle, not easing Ivy's and Dean's concern for her one bit. They were starting to think that she was delirious.

"What's going on?" Sam got back to them right at that second, seemingly having sprinted through the whole store, abandoning his cart wherever he had been at the time of the call. He glanced at his girlfriend who was smirking in amusement, leaning against the wall. "Alla?"

"I'm an idiot, that's all," she reported breathily.

"That goes for you too, Sammy," Dean slapped his brother's chest. "I told you to stay with them. Also, she just got a tattoo. How does it happen that two of the smartest people I know not think of taking care of it?"

Sam was lost for words. He looked appropriately guilty though. Two or three times he opened his mouth as if about to say something, but then just closed it. There was really no excuse. They had been just so wrapped up in everything that it had totally slipped their minds.

"Let's get out of here," the older Winchester said finally.

"We still need the food though," Alla reminded him, her more rational self resurfacing. "Can we just sit here a little while longer till Sam gets everything?"

"I was almost done, five minutes," Sam assured them, and Dean seemed content enough to keep her company. Besides, maybe there was a chance Ivy could give him a little fashion show, preferably with minimal articles of clothing on.

"Where'd you leave the cart?" he quipped.

"About six aisles down?" the younger hunter didn't sound all that sure about that.

"Think you gonna find it?" Dean joshed with a smirk.

"Don't be a jerk," Sam huffed.

"When you stop being a bitch," his brother replied automatically.

Sam would have smiled, but instead just hurried off to get done quicker. Dean sat down by Alla's side, pulling her gently towards him and letting her rest her head on his shoulder. _Geez, these girls just can't catch a break_ , he thought _. Sound familiar much?_

"Do you have everything? I'm not taking you shopping again for a while," he asked them, then had an idea and eyed Ivy flirtily. "I can help you pick out bras if you are having trouble."

Alla snorted in a very unladylike manner, causing herself to go off into a little coughing fit. The other two didn't seem to make anything of it though. Ivy didn't look all that vexed by the comment, she just shook her head in fond annoyance.

"We have everything, thank you," the brunette said sweetly, much to Dean's disappointment.

"Hey, uhm…" the older Winchester started a bit unsurely after making sure no one was around to overhear them, lowering his voice to an almost whisper. "I got you guys something. You know, to make sure you are not found so easily."

He reached into one of the many pockets on his jacket, producing two plastic cards that suspiciously looked like IDs. Fake IDs.

"Allison Hannigan?" Alla quirked her brow when she looked at hers. _Wow, that was a really unflattering photo of her._ The background was photoshopped white, but it was definitely the one Dean had taken just hours ago. It made it all the more authentic looking though. No one looked good on their ID picture. Well, that answered one particular mystery about Dean's shifty behavior today. "Isn't this a little obvious? That it's fake, I mean. Even if it's not the spelling the actress uses. Are you a big How I Met Your Mother fan? Or… wait… probably more like American Pie. Definitely American Pie. I don't think Buffy is your style. Even if funnily genre appropriate."

Dean laughed out heartily. Half out of her mind with fever, but she could still make the weirdest yet most accurate observations. And movie references. This girl had to be the best one Sam picked so far for sure.

"I do love me some pie," he shrugged cheekily, well aware of the innuendo, throwing Ivy another suggestive look. "But incidentally I have been known to watch HIMYM. You can ask Sam. Also, I can call you Allie without raising any brows from now on. But to answer your previous question, no, it's not suspicious. Buncha people are named Allison Hannigan in the States, but since we have a celebrity bearing the same name, every last Google search would just lead back to them. Perfect cover."

As if on cue, Ivy was busy looking something up, then giggled to herself when she finally saw the results.

"So are you into Australian soap operas and teenage-girl shows too? 'Cause I have no idea how else you'd come up with Ivy Latimer for my cover," the brunette gibed good-humoredly.

Dean almost choked on his own saliva. "That was my contact's doing, the one who set me up with the fake IDs. I just told him to find a celebrity with the same first name."

"Yeah, sure. I'd say that too," Ivy winked at him.

"Hey!" the older Winchester exclaimed indignantly.

"You know… this is almost like a mall…" Alla said with an impish smile, getting her phone out and scrolling through the songs she had on it. All the HIMYM talk was making her nostalgic.

"Oh, God, please no," Ivy groaned. She knew exactly where this was going.

When the familiar notes started playing Dean caught on too. "Turn that thing off."

 _Let's go to the mall, everybody!_

"Nah-ah," the blonde tried to keep her phone out of the hunter's reach while still staying seated, but it was a lost cause. The older Winchester wasn't above invading her personal space either in attempts to get to the offending object, so he was almost on top her as he leaned over her to her other side.

Ivy just laughed at their childish behavior.

"Just what the hell are you guys doing?" Sam returned, pushing his cart in front of himself and looking at them with bewildered eyes.


	15. This voice from deep inside

**Chapter 15 – This voice from deep inside**

 _Scorpions – Send Me an Angel_

* * *

"So when were you going to tell me?" Dean glanced at his brother, then to the back seat where Allie was zonked out with her head in Ivy's lap, snoring lightly.

The poor girl barely walked out of the store on her own two feet. The brunette was snoozing too, her head lolling to the side against the window, one hand draped protectively over her friend. It was time for her next dose of witchy cure soon so it wouldn't be surprising if she was starting to feel the curse's effects again. Aaron was no doubt bombarding her with all the hateful thoughts he could possibly muster.

They were about a half an hour's drive from the Bunker. _Finally._ It was getting pretty late, the sun had already set. They had spent way too much time messing around in that "mall," as Allie insisted on calling it just to tease them with Robin Sparkles lyrics. Guess, he could only blame himself for that one though.

"Tell you what?" Sam asked perplexedly, following his brother's line of sight.

Alla was visibly shaking with fever shivers, even though they had both of the blankets from the trunk wrapped around her, her face scrunched up in discomfort. She was not doing well at all, much to his worry.

"That Allie is sick," the older Winchester stated simply. There was no hurt or resentment in his tone, but his eyes told a different story. _You were supposed to tell me this stuff, Sammy._ How was he expected to protect the girls if he didn't know what was going on with them? What if they were attacked by a demon or something, and he told them to run, but they couldn't because they were just too sick to move? The both of them!

The younger hunter shifted guiltily in his place, clearing his throat.

"She didn't want to make a big deal out of a little cold," Sam explained with a sigh, staring ahead at the road. _How did regular people manage relationships? Deciding when to tell who and what? Which secrets to keep? Whose confidences to break?_ Also, Dean was a bit of a hypocrite right now. If Sam had a dollar for every single instance his brother had hidden being sick from their father to avoid getting benched from a hunt…

"It obviously is," Dean responded, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel contemplatively.

 _Boy, it was good to be in charge of Baby again._ He didn't regret his temporary, self-imposed exile to the back seat, but the return of normalcy to their routine was rejuvenating. He had to admit Allie was right when she offered to give them their space up front. Not that he wouldn't have tolerated the blonde if she were wedged between them there, but it was just _different_ with his only his brother as shotgun.

"The fever will be gone as soon as I take care of her tattoo when we get back and maybe get some antibiotics in her," Sam said defensively, and he really hoped that it was the truth. He would never forgive himself if his carelessness caused her any more harm.

"Yeah, about that…" It was Dean's turn to look uncomfortable, knowing that what he was about to say would not be received well.

"What?" predictably the younger Winchester tensed just from his brother's tone.

"Don't you find it weird?" the driver asked tentatively, giving a sideways glance to his partner.

"That her tattoo got infected?" Sam quipped back quizzically with a quirked brow. No, he did not find that weird, not with how little attention they had paid to it. Dean's training escapades landing her on the floor with her shoulder surely hadn't helped either.

"It wasn't just infected… her skin rejected most of the ink already," Dean elaborated. Sam hadn't seen the area. Sure it was a bit red and puffy, but nothing too serious – not like those super disgusting photos he found on Google as they researched how to treat it – yet basically all the black color had drained out already.

"That's not unheard of," the taller hunter countered. "She could be allergic to the dye used in tattoos."

"She already has one, that healed perfectly fine," the older Winchester pointed out. The one on her wrist was colorful even, so all kinds of different compounds were used.

"Yeah, done in another country, on the other side of the world, with completely different ingredients probably," Sam was getting fed up with this inquiry and wished Dean just got to what was bugging him already.

"Still, it's an anti-possession symbol. Don't you find it weird that her body is rejecting it?" his brother said finally after a few seconds. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he just had this tiny little voice deep inside telling him that something was up, he just didn't know what.

"What are you saying, Dean?" Sam demanded.

"I'm saying, has any of us tested her yet?" He hadn't for sure, and he couldn't remember whether any holy water got on the girl when she splashed him in the face with it that one morning when he had jumped her either. "You know for demonic possession."

Sam was glad the girls were soundly asleep because he was confident they wouldn't have taken the accusation too well.

"I'm sure Mom had at some point. She wouldn't have let two strangers bunk with her before making sure they were human," the younger Winchester huffed.

"Yeah…" Dean trailed off. He wouldn't bet on that. Mary was a great hunter and all, but she seemed to have a bleeding heart for lost girls. Either way, anything could have happened in the time from when she initially met them to Allie getting the tattoo. The blonde did have a tendency to run off to clear her head. "Have her drink some either way, maybe clean that tattoo with it too, just to make sure."

"That isn't exactly sterile, Dean," Sam grunted disapprovingly. "Speaking of which, we need to stop for some betadine or something."

"Whiskey not good enough for you now?" his brother retorted with a frown.

"I don't want to risk the infection getting worse," the taller guy admitted. He felt responsible enough already. Whiskey was all fine and dandy when they cleaned flesh wounds for themselves, but Alla was right. It wasn't exactly life insurance.

"Fine," Dean agreed grudgingly, turning right at the next intersection to find a pharmacy in Mankato that would be still open at this hour. Lebanon was a lost cause to being with, considering its "whopping" population of 203.

* * *

Alla woke up to Sam rousing her again. This was starting to become a habit. She could do without the back seat of cars and the fever haze though.

"Drink some water, okay?" he asked her, holding her head up and offering her a bottle. She complied without thinking much of it. It was a bit lukewarm but still felt heavenly on her parched throat.

"Are we there yet?" the blonde inquired groggily. Her head felt about ten times too big, and she was barely able to hold it up, so she just relaxed back against him. "Sorry, I sound like Donkey from Shrek."

"Yeah. Yeah, we are," Sam assured her with a smile. She was such a dork.

He pulled her up, gathering her in his arms and got out of the car. Dean was standing there, waiting for them by the Bunker entrance. The older Winchester had refused to park inside until they made sure that the girl was clean. "I told you so," was all he said to his brother's expectant face, brushing past him.

Dean could haul all their stuff in by himself for all he cared. Half of it was already inside anyway, along with Ivy. Judging from the noises drifting down the hall, the brunette was busy in the kitchen. She had unwittingly passed Dean's test too and had gotten the next dose of Rowena's concoction already, so she was just brimming with energy, putting it to good use by taking care of the boys.

"Are you two fighting again?" the blonde questioned listlessly, not even opening her eyes as she was carried through the first few chambers of the Bunker, even though she would have really wanted to see the place Sam was so fond of. Maybe tomorrow.

"Everything's fine, don't worry yourself," the hunter said tersely. The Ukrainian girl was a 100% sure that not everything was all right, but she didn't have the mental energy to question it further.

Sam sat Alla down on the couch in the living area where her stuff and the first aid kit had been temporarily placed until they decided which room she would get. The younger Winchester started undressing the girl. He needed access to her tattoo.

"Hey, I can do it myself," Alla pouted in concentration as she reached for the hem of her sweater, which Sam found adorable for some reason. Despite her stubborn streak, she struggled to get her upper garments over her head though, so the hunter unobtrusively helped her a bit. She didn't seem to notice a thing. Not even when he took her shoes off.

"Lie down on your stomach," the younger Winchester told her once she was in merely her sports bra that left her affected shoulder exposed.

He threw the afghan from the back of the couch over the rest of her body so that she stayed warm. Alla was asleep before he could even start cleaning her tattoo. Sam chuckled a little with a shake of his head and got to work, careful as to not hurt her sensitive skin.

Dean strolled in about ten minutes later, unsurely rubbing his neck as he watched them.

"How is she?" he asked finally. He hated when there was tension between him and his brother. It was just not natural.

His request hadn't been irrational though. Had Alla been possessed, the wards of the Bunker would have done much worse to her than some holy water. They weren't powered down by default, only when they were expecting the King of Hell to drop by, and that rarely happened. They would rather meet him somewhere else anyway.

"Asleep," Sam commented broodingly as he finished by covering the tattoo and the antibiotic ointment applied to it with some gauze. "Other than that I think she will be okay. Though I wish I had her take some Advil before she passed out."

"We should move her to one of the rooms," Dean suggested. He had slept on that couch before, and it wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world. Though Allie was much smaller than he was and she looked cozy enough with her left arm – on the shoulder of which she had the tattoo – dangling off the side.

"I don't want to wake her again. She needs her rest," the younger Winchester admitted, putting the first aid kit supplies away, then proceeded to pull the covers up to her neck. He resisted the urge to press a kiss to her forehead, lest not disturb her sleep.

"Fair enough," his brother conceded. "That reminds me, let me check the gashes on your shoulder too."

"They are fine, Dean," Sam muttered. _He_ had been keeping them clean and changed the dressing on them each morning after his showers, unlike his lovely blonde companion. It wasn't his first rodeo. Which was precisely why a new pang of guilt flashed through him. He should have checked on her too.

"Humor me," the older Winchester insisted, grabbing the first aid kit off the table before Sam could protest further by hiding it or keeping it out of reach. It might have been childish, but his sasquatch of a brother was not above using his height against him.

The taller hunter relented with a long-suffering sigh, unbuttoning his plaid shirt and mumbling about overprotective brothers under his breath as he got out of his T-shirt too.

Dean was happy to find that the cuts were healing nicely despite the relative lack of attention he had been paying them since they had been bunking in different rooms for the past few days.

"Good as new, Tiger," Dean declared finally after he had cleaned and rebandaged the area, patting his brother's good shoulder reassuringly. "Come and eat. Ivy made some pasta thingie. It looks delicious."

Sam chuckled as he pulled his shirt back on. "I feel like this would be too easy to get used to."

"What?" Dean inquired perplexedly.

"Having a warm meal on the table anytime we come back," the younger brother shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess so," he muttered absentmindedly, already thinking that there had to be a catch. What would it cost them to have this rare sumptuousness in their lives?

* * *

Aside from the dim nighttime and emergency navigation lighting filtering in from the halls – that Alla assumed were always on in a place like this – the Bunker was dark when the blonde came to again, this time on her own volition.

The blanket fell away from her shoulders as she sat up, taking in her surroundings. She only had a bra on her upper body, but no one was around to see her state of undress, so she wasn't terribly concerned. She was sitting on a couch in what seemed like a little nook in a library, with tables and shelves packed with books everywhere. Her bags were right there on the hardwood floor at the foot of her temporary sleeping place.

After fumbling around inside her handbag and finding her phone, she saw that it was well over midnight already. Everyone must have gone to sleep. She couldn't fault Sam for not staying in one of the chairs that lined the desks. They looked mighty uncomfortable to sleep in. Still, waking up with the hunter by her side would have been more preferable. She missed his body warmth.

She rummaged through her backpack next, quickly locating one of her new plaid shirts she just got and put it on before she got chilled.

Alla was still feeling crummy, but a lot better than earlier to be honest. Her fever must have broken, though she was still just as stuffed up as before and wished for a pack of tissues.

The girl noticed the bandaging around her shoulder too and assumed it was Sam's doing. She had some vague recollection of her boyfriend carrying her through the Bunker but was hazy on the details.

The blonde rubbed her face and combed through her hair with her fingers in attempts to appear more awake than she really was as she contemplated what to do next. Maybe she could find Sam's room and snuggle in beside him without waking everyone up?

Then she heard some noise from the adjacent room through the alcove. Like a huge metal door opening and closing.

Assuming that it was either Sam or Dean lurking around, she went to investigate. Also, finding something resembling a kitchen for some food before going back to bed would have been preferable too. Though she still wasn't that hungry, she at least needed to get some fluids in herself if she didn't want to end up in an ER due to dehydration.

Alla followed the sound of footsteps coming down on the stairs, ending up in a big, half-octagonal room with a world map table in the middle and ancient looking computer stuff all around the walls. The place was impressive with its brick and stone walls, dark green tiles. There was no time to admire the architecture and interior design though. The man who was descending from the inner balcony of sorts around the entrance was not one of the Winchesters.

He had dark, artfully tousled hair – the kind you get from either having sex all night or by hours worth of styling with gel in front of a mirror, although Alla had a feeling he achieved it by doing neither – and impossibly blue eyes. They appeared to be almost glowing in the low lighting. Aside from that, he looked rather unremarkable as far as appearances went as if he belonged in an accounting firm rather than a super secret hideout of a secret society with that trench coat and the dark blue suit he was wearing, his tie askew. The blonde wasn't fooled though. She did not think for a second that the man was not dangerous.

"Who are you?" the newcomer inquired in a gravelly voice and looking angry as if _Alla_ was the intruder. Before she could introduce herself, or explain the circumstances that led to the brothers bringing her and Ivy back here, he was already in her face, pinning her to the wall with one hand which held incredible strength. " _What_ are you?"

His eyes bore into her as if searching for something. Whatever it was he was apparently not finding it, if the constipated and confused look on his face was anything to go by.

"What are you talking about?" the blonde asked in alarm, contemplating the pros and cons of screaming for the boys. What if the moment she opened her mouth, he killed her?

The man didn't provide an answer but appeared very much annoyed with her "lack of cooperation." The next thing she knew was that he reached for her forehead with two fingers, and the world exploded around her in a blinding white flash. She heard a scream.

A millisecond later she realized it was her own voice. Also that the pain she had been instinctively anticipating had not come. Instead, among the endless whiteness, she saw the golden-bluish outlines of an ethereal being in front of herself, black wings sprouting from what would have been its back. The visage was mesmerizing in a way, she wouldn't have been able to look away even if she had wanted to.

Simultaneously knowledge, power– no, _energy_ started to flow into her from the being as if it were sucked out from him. Then the connection broke as abruptly as it had formed.

The guy staggered back a step, and she slumped down to the floor as the man let go of her, her knees not supporting her weight after the shock her system had received, even if it all had just been in her head.

Gazing up at his bright blue eyes, she noticed that he looked just as disheveled and bewildered as she felt. The blonde had a feeling whatever had just happened was not what he had been expecting. Or intending.

"Are you…?" Alla began trying to voice the thought that was dancing around in her head. There was no other explanation for that vision, despite her atheism. "An angel?"

"How is this possible?" the man in the trench coat balked, not even paying attention to her. Instead, he thoughtfully glanced down at his hands, whispering to himself. "Could it be? An Aurora? Here?"

He had no chance to elaborate on that thought since the Winchester brothers barged into the room with guns blazing, Sam in mere pajama bottoms, while Dean had a ridiculous gray house robe over his boxer briefs and nothing else. Alla wasn't sure if she felt relieved or wished that they had just stayed away for another ten or twenty seconds so that she could ask the man about what he had meant. This was the second time in as many days that someone mentioned that name to her. A tiny voice deep inside her told her that she definitely should look into that, sooner rather than later.

"Whoa, whoa, Cas, easy there," Dean pleaded with a sigh of relief, placing his gun on the table, turning to the blonde on the floor then back to his angel buddy. He needed to de-escalate whatever was going on, so he addressed the more lethal one of the two. "Allie is not a threat, don't worry. We brought her and her friend back here till we find a solution to her curse."

"Cursed?" Cas inquired perplexedly, looking at the girl, not quite ruling the possibility out.

"Not her, her friend, Ivy," Dean explained hastily.

Sam focused on Alla instead, who was still looking like a deer caught in the headlights, eyes wide at the strange man. "That's Castiel. He's a friend. He didn't hurt you, right?"

He assessed the girl for injuries with a quick glance and seeing none, she was not paying attention him though.

"Castiel. As in Cassiel? Archangel, Angel of Temperance and of Serenity?" she asked in disbelief, uttering the first association that came to her mind. Not at the angel part. She was reasonably sure of what she had seen when he had touched her, but there was nothing temperant or serene about the dude.

"Judaism got a myriad of facts wrong. Thursday is my dominion for one, not Saturday, and I am not an Archangel, but yes, that is their depiction of me," the man answered matter-of-factly. He was looking at her with intent eyes again, although now he seemed to be regarding her relationship with Sam too, his gaze jumping back and forth between the two of them. There was no judgment or malice to it though.

For some reason in the blonde's mind, the most ludicrous piece of this whole mess was that Dean had a nickname for an Angel of the Lord. He called him Cas. It was oddly endearing. He discernibly had a history with the brothers. Alla would have giggled at the way Dean was regarding the angel if this had been a less strained situation. There was tension alright, though she wouldn't have been able to decide exactly what kind.

"Why are you here? Not that you are not welcome any time, buddy. Just give us a heads up next time, okay?" Dean quipped with forced cheerfulness as he clapped the man on his back, sensing that the suspense still hadn't left the room.

"I have to go," Cas said suddenly paying no more than a glance to his friend, heading for the stairs without any further explanation.

"You just got here!" the shorter hunter exclaimed confusedly.

"I need to look into something. I will be back," the Angel of Thursday called from the top of the stairs, exiting dramatically. The only thing Alla missed from that scene was a billowing cape, though the trench coat was a close alternative.

"Freaking angels and their Arnold Schwarzenegger impressions," the older Winchester muttered with a big exhale, resigned to the fact that he was never going to get a straight answer from his winged friend.

"Dare I ask how you know angel lore?" Sam turned gravely to the blonde who was still staring at the door even though Cas was long gone. Sure, she was knowledgeable, but this had to be among the top five weirdest subject matters to research for the Ukrainian girl.

"Uhm, my maternal great-grandfather was a scholar of sorts. His private collection was basically _the_ library of the village we lived in until I was ten. Although my mother's family was devoted Orthodox Christian, we had all sorts of books – on Judaism too. And you know… I read. A lot," Alla clarified. That was an understatement of its own category for sure. "Also I had a DNA test done when I was twenty-five which showed that I had some Ashkenazi Jewish heritage, so that made me interested in the topic."

"You had a DNA test done? Why?" Dean snorted, completely befuddled. Those had to cost a lot, didn't they?

"One of my many misguided attempts at figuring out why I sucked at fitting in? I was convinced for a while that I was adopted," the girl murmured sadly.

"Were you?" Sam inquired compassionately. Alla just shook her head in response. It had been a dead end like everything else in her life. "Alright," he said, feeling that there was no use forcing the issue. "Are you okay? You think you can get off the floor?"

For a second as she reached for Sam's hand, the blonde was really confused by that question. She felt absolutely fine. Then it dawned on her. _She felt absolutely fine._

"Sam…" Alla squeaked as he pulled her off the floor, mentally checking over all her previous woes and finding that she didn't have a fever, feel sick or lethargic at all. Even the back of her shoulder wasn't hurting anymore. "Is Cas capable of healing people?"

Sam was astounded. So was Dean.

"He is, but the dude looked like he was about to stab you with his angel blade when we got here. Why would he heal you?" the older Winchester sputtered in disbelief.

"I-I don't know…" the Ukrainian girl stuttered. Something weird was going on, that much she had figured out already. "He came in here, demanded who I was, then touched my forehead… like this," she showed the hunter, putting her index and middle finger against his forehead.

"That's how he does most of his mojo. Did anything else happen?" the hunter pressed for more information.

The moment of truth. Did she tell them, consequences be damned, or keep quiet? Whatever was happening with her wouldn't stay secret forever either way, right? She did not want to be on the receiving end of the Winchesters' wrath if they caught her in a lie.

"I saw white for a second, and a glowing, vaguely humanoid shape with black wings," she confessed, even though she was fairly sure that had to be _not_ normal.

"You saw an angel's true form and your eyes hadn't burned out of your head?" Dean challenged skeptically, though he could only assume that's what the girl saw, never having witnessed it himself.

"I don't know?" Alla replied unsurely. Nothing of the sort had ever happened to her before, how would she know? She didn't even believe in the supernatural until three days ago, let alone angels.

"Okay, I think that is enough excitement for one night. Let's go to sleep," Sam intervened, intent on preventing another altercation from happening tonight. Dean looked like he was about to throttle the girl.

"Sam, we can't just…" the older Winchester practically shouted in barely contained rage, gesturing toward the girl. _We can't just let her stick around in the Bunker without knowing what is going on._ If she was a threat. Ordinary people couldn't just withstand seeing the celestial body of an angel.

"Dean, that's enough. Tomorrow," the taller hunter insisted, getting frustrated with his brother. _If Alla were a threat she would have done something to them already, wouldn't she?_ Or left, now that she knew the location of the Bunker, to report to whomever. It was best to keep her around at this point, even if they didn't trust her. But that was just the thing. He trusted her. He was not going to let Dean bully her.

"I'm not that tired actually," the blonde piped in awkwardly. With the tempers running so high in the room it was like standing in between two vulcanos about to erupt.

 _NOT helping_ , Sam sent her a glare to shut up.

"See?" Dean latched onto her words, determined to get to the bottom of whatever was going on.

"I'll show you around then, so you won't get lost in the Bunker. Dean can resume his interrogation in the _morning_. _Once he had slept on it_ ," the younger Winchester declared emphatically, considering the discussion closed for now. He guided her towards the hall, away from Dean.

 _Why the hell would you show her around, Sam?_ Dean communicated to him silently with a scowl. _So that she could kill us in our sleep?_ Maybe she was not possessed but between the tattoo melting off her skin, Cas attacking her, and the whole angel vision thing, he was not convinced that nothing supernatural was going on with the girl.

"Can that trip take us to the kitchen first?" Alla asked in a quiet tone, not daring to take a peek at Dean over her shoulder. She could feel his murderous intent practically jabbing arrows – or bullets – into her back.

" _Now_ you are hungry? After midnight?" Sam laughed out because there was just no other way to relieve the tension he was feeling. This whole situation was just so impossible. He surely knew how to pick them. Either way, he was determined to stick by his choice now.

"I haven't eaten all day, and besides, the midnight snack is the best kind of snack," the Ukrainian girl mumbled. She was on the verge of crying, the only thing keeping her together was that Sam was still on her side. She needed to tell him about what Rowena and Cas had said soon though.

"Yeah, let's just hope you are not a Gremlin," the younger Winchester commented wryly.

"Don't tell me those are real," the blonde shuddered at the black humor. She hated that movie. All horror movies to be honest.

"Well, we haven't encountered one yet, but let's not rule it out," Sam winked at her. Alla had been right. Teasing your significant other was a lot of fun.

"Not funny, Sam!" she slapped his arm in mock outrage.

* * *

Dean watched the pair of them disappear towards the kitchen, dragging his hand over his jaw as he tried to calm himself. Even if Sam was mulishly refusing to accept that Alla might not be who he thought she was, he needed answers, and he needed them now.

So he called the one person who could provide them. The angel picked up on the third ring.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel said neutrally as if the last ten minutes of their life had never happened, but not at all surprised that the hunter had called. Unfortunately, the righteous man was not known for his patience.

Judging from the background noise that could be heard through the line, the trench-coated man was already in his car, driving to wherever.

"Where the hell are you going, Cas?" the older Winchester demanded. He was not in the mood for the roundabout way his friend usually revealed information, but he had a feeling that cryptic was all he was going to get. _Not near damn good enough._

"I am not sure what you mean. I am not going to Hell," Cas stated, nonplussed.

Dean exhaled exasperatedly. Deep breath. Restart. Answers were more important than chewing Cas out.

"Alla just told us that she saw your true form," the hunter said, pacing around by the war table.

"I am aware," Castiel confirmed, his voice not betraying anything.

" _And_ – as her eyes haven't burned out of her head – I'm asking you, what the hell, man?" Dean fumed. Why did it always have to be so grueling to get information out of the angel?

"There are some 'special' people who are able to withstand the sight of the true visage of an angel," the dark-haired man tentatively reminded his friend.

 _I already know that Cas, dammit_ , Dean rolled his eyes. Even if they had never met such a person before.

"Although I am fairly certain that is not the case in this instance."

That statement of Cas stopped Dean short.

"Then what is the case?" he asked, dreading the answer already.

"Of that I am not sure yet," the angel admitted. "I need to consult with the Host."

The older Winchester screamed internally in frustration. Deep breath. If Cas was willing to contact Heaven even though he was still unwelcome there, then it must be important.

"Cas, I need answers. I can't have a monster running around in the Bunker. Frolicking with _Sam_. We have been down this road way too many times before. Do I need to gank her?" the hunter posed the million dollar question. He would hate to do this to his brother, but he would do it if need be. Amy, Ruby… he would just have to add another one to that list and on his conscience.

"Dean, she is not a threat to you," Castiel said with so much conviction in his voice that was hard to ignore.

"How… how do you know that? How can you be sure?" Dean deflated a little, though he was far too gone into the land of mistrust to just bounce right back.

"Her mind was very sincere and pure, despite the many tragedies that had befallen her in her life. Her sole focus was on a girl named Ivy, her worry for her friend's safety from her husband, and her love for Sam. She _is_ very much in love with your brother," the trench-coated angel elaborated. From what he saw, Sam hadn't even heard half of what the girl had gone through. The events that had led to her suicide attempt more than a decade ago were just the beginning. Human cruelty knew no bounds. "Although she did have a bit of residual resentment towards you in the back of her mind for something you did to her a few days ago. She had a half-formed plan as to wake you one morning by yelling into a megaphone right by your ear in retaliation. It seemed funny as she pictured what your reaction would be. I have to say she is probably wrong in her assumptions. You only find this kind of humor amusing when you are on the delivering end of it."

Dean was stumped. Here he was accusing Allie of being a monster, and the worst thought on her mind was _pranking_ him. _A very dangerous one at that_ , he wanted to add, but for her, not him. He slept with a gun under his pillow. Yet he sniggered, unable to help himself. This was so ridiculous. He knew he had the tendency to think the worst of people, but this had to take the cake.

"But something is going on with her, right?" he asked finally, though now focused more on helping than eliminating her.

"I believe so, but she is not aware, or at least she had not put together the clues yet, and until I ascertain my suspicions I ask you to not tell her anything," Castiel requested sternly. If he were to be wrong, then this whole speculation would cause her undue stress of a magnitude she might not be able to cope with.

"At least tell me. I need to know what's going. I'm responsible for a lot of people here," Dean practically begged. He rarely begged. But it wasn't just him and Sam anymore. What if something came after Allie? They already had their hands kind of full with Ivy's situation. He couldn't be blind-sighted.

"I am truly sorry, Dean. I will contact you as soon as I find out something," and with that, he hung up.

Castiel just hung up on Dean. The hunter stared at the phone in disbelief for a second before he lost it.

"Son of a bitch!" the older Winchester burst out, barely refraining from throwing the phone into the wall.

"Dean?" Ivy watched him from the entrance of the hallway that led off to their personal quarters, squinting at the light in the room. "What happened?"

"Nothing… nothing," Dean shook his head, then he leaned with his hands against the table in front of him, letting his head hang between his shoulders, trying to regain composure. _Why did everything have to be so complicated all the time?_ "Didn't I tell you to stay in the room?"

 _Why couldn't everyone just do as they were told? What if it hadn't been Cas and she just walked right out into the middle of a dangerous situation?_

Ivy went over to him, placing a hand on his back in a comforting gesture. Dean stiffened at first at the unexpected contact, then let himself relax a little bit against her touch. The brunette proceeded to massage the back of his neck and shoulders a bit where all the tension accumulated.

"Come back to bed," Ivy said coyly with a mischievous glint in her eyes, ignoring Dean's gruff tone. "I believe we were in the middle of something before we got interrupted."

Dean huffed. Right, the striptease he had jokingly promised her when she had been half out of her mind, and he thought she would die soon. Honestly, he gave little chance to actually having to follow through with that, and he was _so_ not in the mood right now.

"Or you know… we could mix it up a bit," the brunette suggested mysteriously, whispering in his ear as she embraced him from the side, running her soft hands lightly over his firm abdominal muscles. It was barely more than a brief, tantalizing touch before she abruptly let go of him and sauntered off towards his room, seductively pulling her camisole top over her head and dropping it on the floor, without so much as a backward glance at him as she disappeared at the corner.

 _Dammit_ , Dean gulped, unable to look away. He was in the mood after all.


	16. Make me feel alive

**Chapter 16 – Make me feel alive**

 _Lindsey Stirling ft. Lzzy Hale – Shatter me_

* * *

One of the hidden truths of life is that the quiet, mousy type girls are the most enthusiastic in bed. Sexual oppression – and of course the subsequent freedom from it – can do that to you. All that pent up energy has to go somewhere eventually, right?

Ivy never thought of herself as particularly promiscuous – having been brought up as a good Catholic girl had a lot to do with that – and she had even waited until her wedding day to lose her V-card. Once that was out of the way, she had found that she had a very active sex drive, one that was most cruelly ignored by Aaron from early on in their marriage. Yet she never strayed, never cheated, just sucked it up, because years of experience told her that once every few months was the best offer she would ever get, no point in screwing up what she had by screwing others. She was undesirable – both aesthetically and because of her medical conditions – and she would never be able to find anyone else. At least that was what her husband had her believe, by putting a curse on her.

 _To hell with that!_ thought the brunette as Dean caught up with her and hitched her up on his hips in one fluid motion, his arms snaking around her back as he kissed her passionately. The hunting lifestyle had some perks after all. His upper body strength allowed such a good grip on her that she didn't even need to wrap her legs together around his waist for support.

Against all the odds, she came to the conclusion that she was young and beautiful, and it was high time she started living. Especially, if she only had days left to live. She was not going to let the Winchesters indebt themselves to some psycho witch so that she could keep surviving on some mysterious potions. She was never going to put herself in such a vulnerable, dependent position ever again.

So Ivy vowed that she would go out with a bang – or a dozen – preferably against a wall, on a desk, in a bed and every other surface she could think of, accompanied by loud, pleasurable moans, both her own and elicited from the sexiest man she had ever seen.

And believe her, the older Winchester brother definitely qualified for that title. Stripping in the middle of a hallway had been the most risqué move she had ever done in her life by a long mile – one she never thought she would ever do – but hey, it worked. Dean was most certainly aroused, the evidence of which was pressing against her inner thigh right at this moment.

The hunter had trod back to his room on auto-pilot, his mouth never relenting the assault on Ivy's, then he kicked the door shut with one leg once they were inside. He stumbled forward blindly another few steps to place the girl in his arms carefully down in the middle of his bed.

With their combined forward momentum, Dean ended up on top of her on all fours and came up for air to admire the brunette beneath him. Her curly locks were fanned out around her head in an almost perfect circle. She looked absolutely stunning, even without makeup, in an effortless, natural kind of way. There was lust, eagerness but also something very innocent – despite her topless state and her perky breasts staring right at him – in the way she looked at him that gave him a pause.

"You sure about this?" the older Winchester asked seriously, self-doubt creeping into his voice.

This wasn't some barfly or waitress from a two-bit diner along the road he would leave behind the very next morning, never to be seen again. He was damaged, _big time_ , the last thing she needed was someone like him complicating her life when finally she had a shot at starting to live it for real. And this wasn't just about the monsters he could possibly drag right to her doorstep. Though he supposed, after this mess with Aaron was done and over with, she could leave, and never look back. And he would let her.

"Never been more sure," Ivy replied quietly, but with just as much confidence. She needed this, wherever it would lead. Maybe need wasn't even a strong enough word to describe how she felt. It was almost like a carnal craving.

Honestly, Dean needed no more convincing. He wasn't going to say no to sex when the woman he was with was so willing. What came after they could deal with later. He straightened up for a moment and got out of his house robe with one jerky, impatient shove, then leaned back down, sliding his hand under her back to maneuver them both further up on the bed before he resumed kissing her. Faster and more insistent than in the hall but at the same time somehow still very tender. He knew just the right moves to make a girl swoon. And _oh boy_ was Ivy swooned.

The skin to skin contact of their upper bodies, feeling his warm flesh against her, sent a wave of desire through Ivy, pooling deep within her belly. Yeah, definitely no one had made her feel this way before. Not that there were many people who could have – all but one – but she definitely did not want to think about _him_ right now.

She wrapped her arms around Dean, digging her fingertips – for lack of long nails – into the hunter's back, and he groaned into her mouth in response. Hearing vocal proof of the effect she had on him spiraled her own arousal out of control right along with it.

"Dean…" she practically whined in her neediness. Honestly, it had been too long, and the stretched out foreplay was not going to do it for her _at all_. She wanted him and wanted him _now_.

The older Winchester smirked against her soft skin, moving onto showering her jawline and neck with kisses, but in no way picking up the pace.

"Patience," he whispered huskily into her ear before playfully sucking on her earlobe.

 _He was such a tease!_

She couldn't help but moan under his ministrations though, no matter how maddening this slow progress was. They had been at it for maybe five minutes, but she was already unraveling at the seams. Dean moved downwards eventually, worshipping every inch of her body until he reached her breasts, stopping there to pay particular attention to them.

Ivy's back arched on its own accord when he started to suck her left nipple, playing absentmindedly with the other with his hand, cupping, pinching and twisting in a way was just shy of painful but never stepping over that threshold. He switched sides a minute or two later, and the brunette was just about ready to explode as his thumb brushed against the sensitive area he had previously worked over so proficiently.

"Dean…" she moaned again, much more breathily this time, his name practically a prayer on her lips. This was torture – sweet, agonizing, pleasurable torture, but torture nonetheless.

The hunter chuckled contentedly but abided by her wishes, only after he flicking her right nipple though. The reaction was instant, and he took pleasure in the way she gasped and squirmed under him.

Before continuing down south, he quickly freed her from her pajama bottoms.

"Well, hello there," Dean murmured amusedly when Ivy was finally before him in all her naked glory, eyeing her very much untamed pubic hair.

The fact that the last time Ivy did anything even remotely resembling shaving was probably months prior occurred to her at that very exact moment too, and she blushed furiously under his scrutiny.

"Uhm… sorry about that," the brunette mumbled, absolutely mortified.

"I _like_ ," the older Winchester hummed appreciatively as he scooted further down, tugging lightly on her little bush before putting her out her misery and starting to work over her clitoris with his thumb in a slow circular motion, putting just the right amount of pressure on.

All sense of shame was overridden by the sparks that danced in her vision from the titillating bliss Dean caused with his expert fingers. He definitely knew what he was doing.

Somewhere along the way, he slipped a finger in, then another. Ivy's senses were entirely blinded by the pleasure. She couldn't exactly tell anymore what was going on outside of their little bubble, couldn't do much else but be wholly swallowed up by the fire steadily building low in her belly.

And then, in the place of his thumb, suddenly was his mouth, kissing her in a place she had never been kissed before. Ivy cried out in surprised pleasure, her hands finding their way into Dean's hair, clenching and unclenching, pulling a little just to show how much she appreciated his ministrations.

Soon enough the brunette reached her peak, her muscles tensing as her orgasm hit her hard and fast. Dean looked up with a Chesire Cat grin on his face as he watched her ride out the aftershocks, his thumb resuming that relentless teasing to prepare her for what was to come.

Ivy felt like her body had turned into the consistency of jello; a putty at the mercy of the older Winchester to shape and form as he pleased.

"Wow," was all she could say once she regained her breath, staring at the ceiling.

Dean placed one more kiss down there before crawling back on top of her, leaving a trail of adoration over her body much the same fashion as on his way down.

"I'm not done with you yet," the older Winchester rumbled against her throat in a deep voice, thick with promise and just a hint of that cocky playfulness he was so known for.

"Figured as much," the brunette giggled as his scruffy stubble tickled her chin.

After quickly acquiring a condom from his bedside drawer, Dean penetrated her without further adieu, not a moment too soon. If he was skilled with his hands, then Ivy didn't know what to call him now, but one thing was for sure. She had never felt more alive.

* * *

In the kitchen, Alla was busy devouring a bowl of pasta, while Sam amusedly watched her eat with his head tilted to the side, and propped in his hand. Dean could eat fast sure, but this was something else entirely!

"It's not going to run away," he commented with a chuckle even though he knew that stuffing that much food into yourself in less than five minutes couldn't have been healthy.

The blonde swallowed her bite quickly before speaking up, feeling a bit embarrassed for getting called out like this.

"Sorry… a bad habit I picked up in the cult. We didn't exactly have a lot of time to eat back then," she admitted sheepishly but shoved another forkful into her mouth anyway.

The younger Winchester's expression darkened instantly at the mention of her three-year quasi-imprisonment. He still had half a mind to hunt those sons of bitches down and make them hurt. He might have to do some research into where the heads of this ridiculous operation were based.

"Hey, none of that," the girl admonished, finishing up her food in record time. "I'm in a good mood here. Finally nothing hurts, so don't poop on my parade."

"You are done then? Want anything else?" Sam shifted uncomfortably, forcing himself to think happy thoughts and smile a little. He would do anything to see the girl smile, which wasn't that often actually. The younger Winchester noticed that on default the blonde's expression was always a little forlorn and as if she was deep in thought, and she only smiled when she saw that someone was looking at her. Even then it rarely reached her eyes, giving it a slightly melancholic quality.

"Nope, I'm good," Alla slid down from her chair, coming up behind Sam to hug him. His broad shoulders were the perfect place to rest her head. Especially with the close access to his long hair. She had never dated a man with long hair before. "Your hair is so soft," she sighed as she snuggled into his neck. "What conditioner do you use?" The question that she had for days now resurfaced again.

Sam laughed out, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Nothing fancy I promise you. Mostly the stuff in those little bottles from motels."

"Huh," Alla mused out loud. Definitely not the answer she had been expecting, though it made sense. It's not like they had the time to get really into researching hair products, so his hair had to be this luscious naturally. _Lucky bastard._ "Well, it does make you devilishly handsome."

The younger Winchester brother stiffened at the phrase, pulling away from the girl.

"Yeah, let's not joke around with that," he muttered steelily as he remembered the fact that after all the trouble he had gone through to lock the Devil back into his cage, Lucifer was out there again, doing who knows what.

Alla was confused by the sudden cold tone for a second, but then she remembered Dean's comment about Sam's Lucifer related nightmares. Something in the younger Winchester's expression told her not to question the topic now, she just filed the information away for a later date. She should probably start writing a list pretty soon because there were already so many things she wanted to know, and she was beginning to lose track of it all.

"You are right, I'm sorry. That was inconsiderate of me," the blonde apologized sincerely, giving his uninjured shoulder a light, sympathetic squeeze.

"Dean told you." His tone suggested this was more of an accusation than a question.

"No, he didn't tell me anything," Alla corrected to ease his mind. She saw how much just the thought of her knowing about his involvement with the Devil distressed him. "When I told him that morning when he tackled me that I hadn't slept well due to a nightmare situation, he jumped to the conclusion that it was yours keeping us up and asked whether it was about Jessica or Lucifer. That's all I know, he didn't elaborate further on the issue."

Sam nodded in understanding, but for some reason, the tension didn't leave his shoulders. A good two minutes passed before he spoke up again.

"Aren't you going to ask me?" he inquired, with just a hint of disappointment mixed in with his trepidation, as if he _wanted_ her to pose him the million dollar question.

"Sam…" Alla sighed, contemplating how to phrase this so that she didn't hurt his feelings accidentally. She drew him into a hug again for good measure. "I want to know anything you care to share with me. I don't want to push you though, or pry. I'd want you to tell me on your own time."

"Funny thing is I _want to_ ," Sam confessed, his brows furrowed in confusion by his own admission. This was definitely a first. "Just don't know where to start."

"This probably won't be much help, but I usually just refer people to my blog to read when I want to tell them about the thing with the cult, and then discuss questions they might have after. So much easier than having to start from Adam and Eve each time," the blonde murmured, her mood sobering a bit too. That blog had been the immediate cause for her father to disconnect from her, even though it was written anonymously.

Obviously, the cult monitored the internet for anything popping up about them, and someone pieced together the clues based on location and dates even if she didn't use names, then relayed the information to her father. Maybe even blackmailed him into cutting her off. She didn't know which was worse, her father coming to that conclusion on his own, or the church pressuring him into doing this to his family and him going along without a problem.

"You have a blog?" the younger Winchester huffed in amused disbelief. "Wasn't that… I don't know… weird to put yourself out there like that?"

"If you had never heard my story before you wouldn't know it's mine unless I told you, so no, not really," Alla explained. "It helped a lot to write about my experiences like that though. I was a total headcase as a teenager."

"May I read it?" Sam asked hopefully. Sure, he had heard bits and pieces of what had happened, but it would have been nice to see the full picture.

"Sure," the Ukrainian girl agreed without hesitation. "I told you most of it already I think. Just more details there. Anyway, we are talking about you now. If you think it would help to write your life story down and wanted me to read it, I would."

Something occurred to Sam at that very moment, and he looked up at the blonde with new found elation. "Alla, you are a genius!"

"What? Why?" she furrowed her brows in confusion.

"I never thought I would ever say this about the Supernatural books, but maybe the easiest way to tell you everything is just to have you read them," the hunter elaborated hurriedly.

"Wait… what? You have already written books about your life?" Alla questioned, still puzzled by what was going on.

"No, not me. Chuck. God, who we thought was a prophet at the time wrote this series, they cover a good five years of our lives with Dean before and around the Apocalypse," the younger Winchester elaborated with fervor.

"I'm confused," the girl confessed falteringly. She was beyond confused. Dumbfounded, perplexed, bamboozled, confounded and all the other synonyms in the book. Hearing about all these supernatural creatures and monsters was one thing. Even angels and demons. But to have it acknowledged that God – the creator of the universe – was real and that the brothers knew him personally, that he had written about their lives was just beyond anything easily comprehensible. Especially for an atheist as herself. Not to mention the Apocalypse. How had she not noticed the Apocalypse happening?

"You'll understand, don't worry. I'll give them to you tomorrow, but now I think it's time for that tour," he declared heartily – his mood obviously having taken a turn for the better – and got up from his seat, taking Alla's hand.

"Okay…" the blonde muttered, still stunned to her core as she let herself be dragged out of the kitchen.

"So the kitchen you already saw," Sam enthusiastically began explaining where everything was as they got back to the room with the map table. "This we like to call the war room. Just through the alcove is the study… and down this hall to our left are the personal quarters…"

Alla just nodded along in understanding, following his lead as they went down that way, surrounded by greyish tiled walls.

"There are communal bathrooms down most corridors, but unfortunately that's all we have, and no separate female or male ones either. The Men of Letters… well… they were men and didn't anticipate women joining their ranks when they had designed and built this bunker," the younger Winchester admitted embarrassedly, rubbing the back of his head.

"It's okay. Not like it's your fault," the girl giggled. He was just way too adorable when he was flustered. Good thing the boys weren't as male chauvinistic as their predecessors in this fine establishment.

"So Dean's room is just around the corner here. He likes to be close to the kitchen," Sam rolled his eyes. _Dean and his love of food._ "Huh, weird. What's this?" he asked with a quirk of his brow as they stepped into the hallway leading towards their rooms, bending down to pick up what ended up being a camisole top.

"I think that's Ivy's," Alla stated matter of factly, biting down on her bottom lip to stifle a giggle that was threatening to erupt. She had a feeling about why that piece of clothing was abandoned in the middle of the corridor.

"Why is it…?" the hunter began to ask, only to be interrupted by the unmistakable sounds coming from the first door on the left, just a few steps ahead of them.

Sam's bewildered face switched to miffed and chastising in half a second flat as understanding bloomed in his mind. _Shouldn't have expected anything else though_ , he thought to himself. His blonde companion couldn't hold back her snort anymore at the sight of his bitch face.

"Let's move along," he said finally, a bit terse in tone and tugged his girlfriend away from the scene of debauchery in a kind of desperate hurry. As if this would take away her innocence somehow.

Alla felt she was beyond saving, and that there was no need to shield her in any way. Didn't stop her from chuckling fondly though.

"And this is my room," Sam informed her with a big exhale – as if he had been holding his breath all the way from Dean's room – stopping at door number 21, opening it for her to take a peek inside.

What first stood out to Alla was that the space was very utilitarian. There wasn't much in the way of decorations up. His bedroom was set up like a motel/hotel room, with a bed up against the wall facing them, with bare bricks as a backdrop. Plain, cream-colored sheets, nothing fancy. Bedside tables, lamps, a desk, chair, space heater, shelves along the walls. All the necessities, but generic, in line with the theme of the Bunker as if Sam hadn't changed a thing about the furnishings. There were some personal belongings here and there, sweaters hanging from the hangers, and a ton of research materials by the looks of it on the desk, shelves, and nightstands. _Sam sure likes to read_ , the girl smiled to herself.

"My bed," the hunter pointed out unnecessarily with an awkward hand gesture, still a bit unsure of himself with Alla in his one safe place.

"Your bed," Alla echoed in agreement.

They looked at each other, sharing a glance that somehow lit up the room but also narrowed the space around them just to the two of them.

The next thing she knew was that he was pressing her up against the door frame, claiming her mouth as his own, taking no prisoners. The whole thing happened so fast she didn't even know how to react besides submitting to him. Not that she was complaining.

It was hot and messy, lacking any and all restraint. Her buttons popped off as Sam practically tore her shirt off. She hadn't even seen him move. In a whirlwind, the younger Winchester picked her up, swatting the files off his desk, setting her down there as he continued to undress her.

The hunter opened his fly, penetrating her without much foreplay, their passion peaking as days of sexual tension finally came to a head. Both of them moaned and groaned as he continued to pummel into her. Alla wrapped her legs tightly around his hips, meeting her man thrust for thrust. As gentle as Sam could be with her emotional state of being, he was dictating every aspect of their physical encounter, and she loved it more than she could put into words. She gave herself wholly over to him, to the feeling of his hands all over her, one twisting her hair almost painfully at the nape of her neck, while the other kept her in place by the small of her back.

They were sweating, filled with carnal need within seconds. At one point Sam must have bitten down on her lip because Alla could taste just a tinge of blood in her mouth as he continued to kiss her.

Without any forewarning, or slipping out, the younger Winchester picked her up, carrying her to the bed, where he sat down with the blonde in his lap. Alla took that as a cue to start riding him, hard and fast, but Sam broke their kiss with a husky chuckle.

"No, baby girl, let me do all the work," he murmured with a lustful smirk, turning their bodies towards the bed and flipping her under him.

The Ukrainian girl wanted to protest for just a fraction of a second. She always had difficulty orgasming while being on the bottom. Then Sam started moving again, dictating an unrelenting pace and all coherent thought fled from her mind.

 _Holy fucking shit!_

No one had ever been this proficient in turning her into a puddle of goo. There was no hesitation, unsureness in Sam's moves. He knew exactly what and how he wanted, and by some miracle, it was precisely what Alla needed too.

She lost herself in the sensation. Her body was charging with an electric current she had never experienced before. Her nose and fingertips were becoming numb as if everything in her body started to concentrate in one spot deep inside her belly. It was too much and at the same time oh so delicious.

"Ah!" she cried out when Sam managed to hit her in just the right spot. She wasn't far from coming if this continued.

"Come for me, baby girl," Sam commanded, and that was exactly what she did. Her back arched away from the bed at the intensity of her orgasm. "Ah, fuck," he groaned, as the pulsing tipped him over the edge too.

The younger Winchester rolled off of Alla a second later so as not to crush her with his weight, trying to catch his breath. He had to admit, although fast, this was better than most sexual encounters he had ever had. Not that he had trouble enjoying them before either. Yet this one was somehow more special. Alla had completely given herself over to him, which rarely happened.

"Wow," he breathed shakily, turning his head with a satisfied smile to the blonde beside him.

"Wow, indeed," the girl sighed, practically purring as she turned on her side to snuggle up to Sam, laying her head on his chest.

The hunter barely had half a mind to draw the blanket up to cover themselves, before they both fell into the well-earned dark oblivion of sleep.

* * *

Alla woke up in a state of panic, gasping for air, not quite sure where she was or how she got there as she sat up. The nightmare was still fresh on her mind. A new one at that too. The image of standing in a stone circle, surrounded by women dressed in medieval clothing, chanting at her with malicious smiles on their faces burned into the background of her vision now. A coven of witches had been after her. Trapping her with some kind of spell.

Trapped.

She felt utterly trapped, unable to breathe, move.

"Alla?" Sam called her name sleepily, but she didn't respond or maybe didn't even hear his concerned inquiry.

The Ukrainian girl couldn't shake this feeling that this hadn't been just a dream. She was reliving a memory, though how that was possible, she had no clue. Whatever was going on seemed like it had happened in the distant past. _Was there such a thing as previous lives, reincarnation?_ If there was… she couldn't even quite fathom the implications of her dream just yet. Could this have been the source of all her anxiety all along?

"Alla, what's wrong?" the hunter's question was more urgent now, his hand falling on the girl's shoulder, startling her. On the bright side, the sudden shock of realization that she was in the Bunker, and safe with Sam, stopped her from hyperventilating.

"Sorry. Bad dream," the blonde gulped in a deep inhale, burying her face in her hands as she concentrated on regulating her breathing.

"Hey, talk to me. What's going on?" the younger Winchester insisted, his demeanor nothing less than compassionate. He wanted to return the favor of the support she had given him two nights ago.

"Sam, I need to tell you something," Alla confessed guiltily. She glanced at the guy beside her, even though she couldn't make out his face in the dark. "Something I should have told you sooner."

"Go on," he encouraged her, not even a hint of resentment in his voice.

"Rowena said something…" the girl began, unsure how to best explain the encounter. "Something about The Sisters of the Three Auroras… wanting me? That they would even kill for me?"

Sam inhaled sharply. He had no idea what Rowena had referred to, but he could take a guess, but before he could respond in any way, Alla continued.

"Then Cas… when he touched me. Something happened. Something I don't think he had control over. I believe… I drained him? I don't know how, but this current of energy… power… knowledge… or I don't even know what to call it, flowed into me. That was also what healed me, but I don't think Cas had intended to do that. Then he too mentioned something about an Aurora."

"Alla…" the hunter began, trying to be reassuring and placating with his touch but the blonde shook his hand off and angled herself to face him head-on, desperate for him to understand the perceived extent of the crisis before them.

"And just now, I had this dream… of witches and a stone circle. It had felt so real. I was trapped," she recounted in a fast jumble, barely able to get the words out as just the mere memory of the nightmare started to send her into panic again. "Sam, what is happening to me?"

"I don't know," the younger Winchester replied truthfully. "But we will find out. I promise."

With that he embraced her, pulling her close, and this time she let him.

They stayed that way for a long while until Sam tensed as he remembered something.

"Shit," he swore emphatically.

"What?" Alla asked warily, half expecting some devastating news to come her way after her admissions.

"We forgot to use a condom," the younger brother revealed in horror. _Dammit, how could I be so careless?_

The Ukrainian laughed out hysterically a moment later from the sheer relief. She was already mentally preparing for the possibility of Sam throwing her out of the Bunker, after having found out that she had kept things from him, and that there might be a coven of witches after her for who knows what reason. What was it about her that supernatural beings coveted?

"This is not funny. Tomorrow I'll get you a morning-after pill," Sam declared, taken aback by her reaction. He got up from the bed in agitation, flicking on the bedside lamp finally, momentarily blinding them both.

"Don't bother," Alla said between bouts of giggles. She just couldn't stop.

"Are you on birth control?" he asked finally, confused as to why she would refuse.

"No, but…" her next thought instantly sombered her mood. Another one of her inadequacies. "I can't have children, Sam."

"Oh," the hunter breathed out in understanding.

"I, uhm…" the blonde went to explain. "A few years back I had a serious boyfriend. We had tried many times, conceived on three occasions, but I lost the baby in the first few weeks each time. It's an autoimmune problem I was told, my body is somehow incompatible with the fetus, and my immune system attacks it. So don't worry, you won't have an unwanted love-child."

"That's not…" Sam began gently, suppressing the urge to feel jealous of a guy his girl had in the past since her wording made it clear he was just that. In the past. "It's not a matter of wanting a child or not, Alla."

"You don't have to explain," she cut him short. This was too sore of a topic. She didn't want to get into it. She didn't want to cry right now.

"Babe," he sat back down beside her, pulling her into another hug. He could only imagine what one miscarriage could do to a person, let alone three.

"It's okay, I've accepted it," the girl said. _Lie._

"Are you sure you wouldn't want the pill anyway? Just so that you don't have to go through that again?"

"I'd rather not have unnecessary hormones put into my body if it's all the same to you. It's messed up enough as is. In the unlikely event that you did manage to knock me up, even though we are not in my tiny four-day window around ovulation, it would clear out on its own a week, or maximum two, after the time my normal period should have begun," Alla ranted on, not catching herself in time. She shifted uncomfortably in his hold. "Sorry, TMI."

"Not at all," Sam's mouth tugged into a wry smile.

There was so much more he would have wanted to discuss on the topic, but it was clear that Alla would have preferred to stow this particular line of questioning to a later date when she wasn't burdened with a hundred other things.

The younger Winchester brought the girl into his embrace, running soothing circles into her back until she finally managed to fall back asleep.

* * *

Alla's confessions during the night before had Sam thinking in the morning. He had to admit there was something very peculiar going on. Rowena's interest in his girlfriend had him worried the most. As much as he hated it, but he had to share what he had learned with Dean. Keeping secrets from his brother, especially when Dean had been so agitated in the aftermath of Cas popping by, wouldn't be the best course of action.

So he rose early from bed, leaving the blond girl to rest a bit longer, and went to find the other Winchester. Sam chanced upon him in the kitchen, sipping on a cup of coffee by the table.

"Hey," the younger hunter greeted the other pensively.

"Hey," Dean quipped back, without so much as looking up.

"So… I have some news," Sam began.

"Yeah?" his brother finally glanced up.

"I think you were right, there is something supernatural going on with Alla," the younger Winchester conceded reluctantly.

That got Dean's interest. Sam admitting being in the wrong? Almost as good as an apology.

"Oh?" he quirked his brow.

"Apparently Rowena had said something troubling to her while we were out gathering spell ingredients," Sam explained his concerns. "I think there might be a coven of witches after her. Why though, I don't know."

"Dammit it. Knew it we shouldn't have left them all alone together…" the older hunter swore with a sigh, pulling his hand down over his morning stubble like he always did when he was exasperated by something. "Doesn't Allie have enough shit to worry about?"

Dean's response confused Sam greatly. Hadn't he been on the verge of murder just six hours earlier, ready to gank the blonde on the hunch that she might be a monster? Now he was worried about her mental well-being?

"Have you ever heard of The Sisters of the Three Auroras?" Sam asked, instead of trying to figure out what his brother could be thinking. Sometimes the older Winchester was so mercurial, it was hard to keep up with his mood swings.

"No, but I guess it's something worth looking into. We gotta focus on Ivy first though," Dean asserted. The brunette's clock was ticking, they had exactly six potions left after she had drunk last night's dose.

"Huh," the taller brother couldn't contain his astonishment at the one-eighty Dean's attitude took any longer.

"What?" he looked at Sam warily.

"I thought… I don't know… that you'd be more… ready to jump the gun?" his younger brother voiced the cause of perplexion finally.

"Cas said she is not a threat to us," Dean stated matter-of-factly as if that should have been obvious from the start.

"You talked to Cas?" Sam tilted his head to the right, wondering why Dean hadn't mentioned that earlier or when exactly had he had time to chat up his angel buddy between the angry outburst regarding Alla and the undeniable sex going on just ten minutes later in his room.

"Yeah. Right after you two took the midnight stroll of the Bunker," the older Winchester remarked as if somehow Sam was the one indulging himself too much with female company.

Not that he and Alla hadn't ended up in the same exact compromising position, but at least they were never found out. At least to Sam's knowledge. Dean's expression was giving him a tiny bit of paranoia regarding that assumption at the moment, but he couldn't have known, could he?

"What did he say?" Sam followed up on the original question without so much as a break in the flow of the conversion while his mind mulled over the fact that they ought to soundproof the rooms of the Bunker.

"Not much. Just that he had a hunch and will ask the Host about it," his brother shrugged noncommittally, as if the topic wasn't of import to him anymore.

"And the fact that whatever is going on could be angel related isn't worrying you?" the younger hunter quirked his brow. What could Heaven know that would help with whatever witchy stuff was going on with Alla?

"Cas said he had a peek into her thoughts, she is nothing but sincere in her demeanor towards us," Dean expanded on a matter Sam wasn't even questioning. He had no doubt about Alla's intentions before this confirmation either.

"That's… great," he acknowledged with a perplexed furrowing of his brows.

"How about this, we tag team. I jump in on the witch hunt to find Don Stark, and you research whatever you can on these weird sisters or Auroras or whatever. If either of us gets stuck, we switch and see where that takes us," the older Winchester suggested, slurping the last sip of coffee from his mug, seemingly ready to be somewhere else and wanted to cut the conversation short.

"Sounds perfect," Sam agreed.

"Good. Now if you excuse me, I have a hot date with a brunette in my bed," his brother declared, his green eyes twinkling with mischief fueled by the exhilarating opportunity to rib his younger sibling.

"Ew. I so did not need to know that," the other Winchester pulled his mouth in disgust for the overshare of information.

Dean just winked at him before sauntering out of the kitchen with an unusual amount of perk to his steps.

Little did they know what in just a short few hours, reality, as they knew it now, would shatter before them.


	17. Call my name and save me from the dark

**A/N: I am so truly sorry for everything that is going to happen in this chapter. Proceed with caution. According to my plans, there are at least two more chapters after this, so this is not the end yet!**

* * *

 **Chapter 17 – Call my name and save me from the dark**

 _Evanescence – Bring Me To Life_

* * *

Unbeknownst to Sam and Dean, Alla had heard the entirety of their conversation from around the corner. Sam's plan of sneaking out of their bedroom without disturbing her had been doomed from the start. She had noticed his absence immediately and followed after, foremostly to get a cup of coffee for herself as well if they were going to start the day so early, but when the intensity of their conversation caught her attention, she decided against making her presence known.

Now, Dean's announcement of his intention to go back toward his room was Alla's cue to haul ass out of there before she got discovered and busted for eavesdropping. She was so focused on the task that as she rounded the corner from the map table chamber onto the hallway of the personal quarters, the blonde ran head-first into Ivy, who had just emerged from a room, meaning to find the older Winchester since he had been taking too long in her opinion.

The two girls yelped in surprise and pain as they both landed on their bums, unable to catch or steady themselves on any surface after the collision.

"Geez," Ivy groaned as she rubbed her behind, using the wall for support as she stood back up. "What's the big rush?"

"Sorry, wasn't paying attention," Alla apologized without really answering the question, flustered as hell about the predicament she got herself into.

She had yet to pick herself up when Dean arrived onto the same corridor, a puzzled look on his face as to why the blonde was sitting on the floor.

"Everything okay, ladies?" he asked with drawn brows, his eyes darting between them as he tried to figure out what was going on.

"Yeah, everything cool, just decided to check out how the halls look from down here," the Ukrainian girl retorted, half joking, half dripping with sarcasm.

Ivy gasped as if just remembering something, internally chastising herself for the mere fact of being capable of forgetting it at all. She bent down to help her friend up. "Are you sure you are okay? How's that fever?"

The brunette proceeded to press the back of her hand against Alla's forehead, which she tolerated. Even if just barely. Honestly, she wasn't in the mood to be touched by anyone, too many things running through her mind all at once, threatening to overwhelm her, with which the added tactile sensory input wasn't helping at all.

"Yeah, uhm," Alla awkwardly faltered in her reply. Ivy had no clue about what had transpired last night unless Dean had let her in on it in the midst of busy love-making. A quick glance at him told her that it had completely slipped his mind. "I'm all better now."

Ivy caught the not too inconspicuous look the other two had shared, turning to Dean herself too for answers.

"What am I missing?" she asked, more curious than offended for being left out of the loop.

"I…" the Ukrainian girl began.

"She…" Dean said at exactly the same time.

"Sorry," they apologized in unison. It would have been funny if it wasn't so awkward.

"You go ahead," Alla encouraged quietly, averting her eyes. She had a feeling the hunter would be able to better explain her miraculous cure.

"I'll just tell you what's going on back in the room, okay?" the older Winchester suggested finally, ill at ease with trying to discuss last night's bizarre occurrences without offending the girl whom he was going to talk about if she was going to be right there in the room as well while this conversation happened.

Sure he had gotten over his grievances about Alla's possible non-human nature after Cas's confirmation that she wasn't a direct source of danger to them, but this was their first time seeing each other since that altercation, and there was still palpable tension in the air between them. As if they suddenly didn't know how to act around each other.

There was also the question of how much he should reveal about all this to Ivy. Would the Ukrainian girl want to share everything? The girls didn't strike him as the kind who would keep secrets from each other, but what did Dean know? He had only first met them a handful of days ago. Not to mention that he and Sam kept plenty from each other as well, yet they were as co-dependent as siblings would come. Either case, the blonde's demeanor didn't provide him with any pointers on that front.

 _Geez, what a weird morning this turned out to be._ The hunter could already feel a headache coming on.

Before he could steer Ivy in the direction of their bedroom though, his phone started ringing. Dean cursed under his breath, annoyed by the interruption already.

"Excuse me," he furrowed his brows as he glanced at the caller ID, turning away from the girls and traipsing off to take the call in privacy.

"Wanna tell me what the heck is going on?" Ivy turned to her friend, running out of patience with everyone's cryptic avoidance of the topic. It felt as if the whole world was colluding to keep this detail about her friend from her.

"An angel came by and cured me," Alla offered part of the truth, the one that was pretty straightforward since none of them were really sure of the rest. She couldn't wait to get started on the research the Winchester brothers had suggested in their private conversation, but she couldn't very well bring it up without giving herself away.

"Why do I have the feeling that's not all?" the brunette sighed defeatedly, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

"Let's focus on finding a counter-spell or something for your curse first, okay? You have enough on your plate without my issues," the Ukrainian girl deflected. She didn't want to go into speculation, and truthfully, Ivy's problem really was more urgent.

"Alla…" Ivy warned, her tone indicating that she wasn't appreciating the coddling and the ill-perceived notion of having to shelter her from the truth. How was she supposed to be a friend to Alla if the girl didn't tell her what was going on with her?

The brunette couldn't get much further in that train of thought because Sam came rushing towards them, bearing some kind of news.

"Hey, could you guys come to the library?" the younger Winchester urged them, his face drawn with tension.

Something had clearly happened.

* * *

"Here's the deal…" Dean began cogently the moment the three of them stepped into the room, rubbing his hands together as he shuffled his weight around between his feet as he stood in one place, inadvertently making his bow-leggedness more pronounced. He wasn't exactly sure how to surmise his phone call with Rowena the best.

Something smelled fishy about the whole thing, and no it wasn't the tuna salad sandwich he had for breakfast. Sam hadn't been brought into the loop yet either, and Dean could tell from the way his brother was looking at him that he wasn't going to like what he was about to hear.

"I just got a call from Rowena," he announced, not wanting to keep the dramatic pause up for too long, but also so he had time to mull over in his head why exactly the situation was bothering him.

Alla and Ivy didn't react to that piece of news, just kept staring at Dean, anticipating that there was more to the story.

Sure enough, the hunter continued just as a second later, once he had made ascertained that he had gotten everyone's attention.

"She had found Don Stark," the older Winchester just came right out with it.

"That's good news, right?" Ivy asked unsurely, catching onto the growing tension in the room.

"Yes and no," Dean sighed. "Don't you find it weird that she just up and performed a locator spell on the dude – successfully, I might add – when a powerful magic user like Don would have set up thorough countermeasures for just that?"

"When you put it like that…" Alla mused. _Yes, it was peculiar._

"You think it's a trap?" Sam voiced his concerns. Rowena had admittedly been after the Starks' grimoire when she first came to help them.

"I honestly don't know," the older brother shook his head. "Possible. Two birds with one stone if she cut a deal with them. She gets the grimoire, or maybe some pages of it, while Don and Maggie get to finish the job they had failed to do the last time we ran into each other, something I'm sure Miss Wicked Ginger wouldn't mind either. One – well two – less hunters to worry about."

"So what do we do?" the tall guy inquired, not liking this whole thing, not one bit.

" _We_ are doing nothing," the older Winchester declared, leaving no room for arguments. "You are staying here with the girls, making sure they stay safe."

"You can't mean…" the blonde gasped, guessing where this was going.

"You are _not_ going alone, Dean!" Sam snapped. _Going off to find and fight two, if not three, powerful witches? Without back up? Oh hell no!_

"What do you propose, Sam? Huh? Drag two civilians with us, stick them in a motel nearby and hope no one finds them? With what we know about how that douchewad's mark on Ivy works?" he bristled, outraged by Sam's carelessness. The Bunker was warded at least. Though they didn't know how well it shielded against this specific triangulation spell since the protections weren't designed with this type of thing specifically in mind, at least only someone with a key could come in. Even if the asshole managed to make his way within a mile radius of the Bunker, further directions to Ivy's location should be scrambled, and the door was impenetrable, in case by some dumb luck he made it that far.

"I…" the younger brother stopped short. No, of course, he didn't want to unnecessarily endanger Alla and Ivy, and they couldn't be very well left alone in the Bunker, lest the brunette's bastard of a husband did manage to find a way in. "I just don't like you going off on this hunt alone, Dean."

"I know," Dean relented. Sam was just worried about him. Between the two of them, they had way too many near – and also quite real – death experiences for comfort, and neither of them handled the other's demise very well. They tended to get reckless, making stupid ass decisions that later on snowballed into a flurry of cosmic consequences. Like an Apocalypse or two, for example. "I know, Sam. But what choice do we have?"

"I don't know! At least… at least bring someone along. Mom… or Jody… or anyone really," the long-haired Winchester beseeched, fearful for his brother's safety.

"Yeah. No," the older hunter huffed. He wasn't about to call Mary for help after the way she had ditched them just days ago. How she had repeatedly ditched them, first leaving from the Bunker, then at that funeral up in Canada. Jody – though he would have loved to work with her, she was reliable, quick on her feet – surely had her hands full in Sioux Falls.

"Dean!" Sam insisted, teetering on outrage.

"That's final, Sam," Dean grumbled, stalking out of the library toward his room to pack up.

The younger Winchester threw his hands up in the air in frustration, exiting in the opposite direction with purposeful, long strides.

The two girls stood rooted in their places as they got left all alone, exchanging wide-eyed glances.

"What had just happened?" Ivy broke the silence first.

"I call it the Winchester storm," Alla replied, a bit stunned as she tried to process everything that had just happened.

"You have seen them do this before?" the shorter girl inquired. Admittedly there was a lot that she had missed while she had been lying unconscious and fever-ridden from the curse.

"Oh, aye," the blonde nodded, for some weird reason a tiny bit of Scottish accent mingling into her speech, probably because Rowena was so prominently on her mind due to the discussion they just had.

"I'm gonna see if he… uhm… needs help," Ivy mumbled, a blush of embarrassment creeping up on her face. "To… uhm… influence his decision as to what to pack."

Right. "Help." Even though Alla wasn't the most socially adept person, this was as obviously a code word for sex as they would come. She couldn't come to resent her friend for wanting to provide a proper send off to the guy.

"Go get him, tiger," she chuckled, watching the brunette retreat without another word, Alla's secret all but forgotten.

* * *

The proverbial ice age between the brothers seemed to have thawed a bit by the time Dean was ready to leave an hour later. Surely delayed by Ivy's enthusiastic "help" and "influence" because why else would a seasoned hunter need an hour to pack a small duffel? Everyone had gathered in the garage to bid him good luck and farewell, with the hopes that he would return soon.

"Don't get yourself killed, man."

Sam grabbed Dean's hand as he offered it for a shake, pulling the appendage toward his own chest and with it tugging Dean in for a hug while his other arm embraced him over his shoulder and back. The older Winchester just patted his Moose of a little brother briskly on the back, but it was more comforting than any full-on chick flick moment would have been.

This was as far as apologizes went between the two.

"Okay, okay, that's enough mush," Dean griped, but you could tell he needed the confirmation that everything was good between them as much as Sam did. "You be good, kids."

With that he hopped into the Impala and started the engine, rolling off toward the exit, the automated garage door already opening for him.

"Let's get to work, I guess," Sam declared after a sigh as Baby's taillights disappeared from view and the door began to slide back into place. The job was far from over.

* * *

By the fourth day of Dean being gone, the tension was running high in the Bunker. Ivy missed the older Winchester like something fierce, throwing herself into baking to keep her mind off the fact that her lover was out there somewhere, risking his life in order to finally get his hands on the permanent fix that would set her free from her husband's magic-induced torture device. As a result, slowly there were mounds of cookies, brownies and all sorts of other goodies piling up on practically every available surface of the kitchen and library, where the other two mostly resided these days. Although kind of odd, the brunette never questioned why the pantry was stock full of baking supplies, literally heaps of flour and baking soda, not to mention enough eggs and milk in the fridge to sustain a small army. She made good use of them though.

The fact that they were starting to run low on the concoction Rowena had prepared for her wasn't helping matters either. What if Dean didn't return until it was time to order more? Would the petite redheaded witch help them out on Sam's request alone? What would be the cost of this repeated favor?

Alla was just as antsy. While Sam kept researching witchy cures to Ivy's problem, just in case his brother's endeavors in capturing Don Stark didn't pan out, he gave a bunch of books on angel lore and celestial beings to the Ukrainian girl to read through, to see if they mentioned anything about these mysterious Auroras.

The fact that Castiel had knowledge of these creatures and instantly recognized Alla as one made the younger Winchester think that it had to be something related to heaven or the host. That would explain the weird power compatibility between their winged friend and his girlfriend as well that allowed for Alla to subconsciously latch onto and suck some of Cas's grace into herself to heal.

The reason the blonde was so agitated though – even though her silent plea for research notes had been answered – was that she hadn't found jack shit so far in the hefty tomes of reference materials that the Men of Letters bunker had to offer. The possible explanation of her origins was either the most obscure piece of legend out there, or maybe it had nothing to do with angels after all.

Sam had his own excuse to feel apprehensive. One that he hadn't shared with the class. Namely that Dean hadn't been answering the phone or had replied to a single text in nearly three days. That was not like him at all. The older Winchester always made a point of checking in at least once a day if they were separated, if nothing else with a hasty midnight text that stated he was alright unless there were grave circumstances beyond his control in play. Like actively hiding or running from some nasty, being captured, or… death. No. The tall hunter quickly shot that train of thought down. Dean couldn't be dead. He was just on a hunting trip… and he hadn't been home in a few days…

The radio silence was killing Sam. Worse, the fact that he couldn't do anything about it. He was stuck babysitting two civilians. The hunter was far from resenting the girls for it, but the inability to do something was slowly wearing down his defenses, starting to crumble the careful mask that he kept around Alla and Ivy to save them from the worry. Maybe he ought to give Jody a call and ask her to go find Dean? Or Mary… mom? Nah, she was way too far to make a difference if that shifter case in Maine had turned out to be just that. Sioux Falls on the other hand… at least it was in the same time zone as the Bunker, that ought to count for something.

A call wouldn't hurt, right? He knew the general vicinity of where Dean was supposed to have headed.

Sheriff Mills picked up on the third ring.

"Hey, Sam. What's up?" their second mom of sorts greeted with a bit of forced perk to her tone. She was trying to delude herself into thinking this was a social call, but truth be told, the Winchesters rarely checked in when everything was A-okay.

"Jody… uhm… is this a good time?" Sam suddenly had second thoughts. Wasn't it just two weeks ago that Jody got possessed by that demon at Asa Fox's funeral? Sure she would rather rest than have to deal with them and their drama again. Maybe Dean had been right… best not burden Jody with their own problems.

"Give it to me straight, Sam. What trouble did Dean manage to get himself into this time?" Sheriff Mills chided half playfully, half sarcastically, as if scolding a wayward child. She had plenty of experience in that particular kind of mom's voice, ever since Alex and Claire had come under her care.

"He went to Denver to follow up on a lead in a case. I haven't heard from him in a couple days," the tall hunter admitted.

"Why weren't you with him?" she asked perplexedly. The boys rarely separated while in the middle of a hunt.

"I had to stay at the Bunker due to another matter. Still do," was all Sam said, guilt and shame bubbling up unbidden, even though he knew there was no way around their current situation, and it had been Dean who had insisted that he stay.

"Okay, will do," Jody replied with ease, audibly getting ready to head out in the background, tossing weapon into a duffel bag. "Anything I should keep my eyes out for?"

"Witches," the younger Winchester concisely stated. Besides Don and Maggie Stark, there was Rowena to contend with too. He wasn't exactly sure what the redhead was up to, but undoubtedly no good. Not just regarding the issue with Ivy. He hadn't forgotten the creepy comments coming from the witch that Alla had revealed to him finally.

Though he couldn't see, Jody straightened, an expression of pure disgust settling itself on her face. "Man, I hate witches," she declared after a second.

"Couldn't agree more," Sam chuckled despite himself. "Thank you for doing this. Really. I don't know what I would have done without you."

"Aw, no problem!" the woman crooned, touched beyond belief by the sentiment.

They hung up after that, no more words were needed to be said.

* * *

Imagine Sam's surprise when on the fifth morning, while all three current residents where sitting in the kitchen, the hunter deep in thought, contemplating what to do as he twirled his phone between his fingers, still waiting for an update from either Dean or Jody, the Bunker door suddenly creaked open, echoing through the halls to their location.

"Dean is back!" Ivy enthused, pulling her apron right over her head and flinging it on the back of a chair before rushing out to go meet the older Winchester brother with the welcome he deserved.

Alla shared a quick glance with Sam, rolling her eyes just at the prospect of the over-amorous exchange between the two. Not that she had the right to throw stones. She had been known to forget that they had an audience while she was wrapped up in the younger Winchester as well. Needless to say, that had been a regular nightly activity for the two. The blonde kinda felt terrible that Ivy had to exercise patience while they indulged to their heart's content.

The Ukrainian girl slid out of her seat, following Ivy in a slightly more sedated pace.

The cell in Sam's hand had stopped moving the moment the sound of the door opening reached them. He froze. Something was not right. Why hadn't Dean given a sign of life if he was so close to home? Maybe something happened to his phone? But surely, he would have stopped at a payphone to let his brother know that everything was okay… or something? Right?

"There you are, _bitch_ ," the malicious greeting reverberated through the corridors, springing the hunter into action at once. He dashed out of the kitchen, fishing the gun out of the back of his pants on the go, safety switched off, loaded and ready.

Alla had a bit of a head start on him though. When she heard Aaron's voice drift down the hall, she set out in a sprint, desperate to catch up to her friend.

In the map room, Ivy stood frozen in her place at the bottom of the stairs, staring at the figure on the top of the inner balcony. Her husband. Pointing a gun at her.

Everything happened so fast after that. Aaron Stark didn't start a monologue to justify his evil behaviors or give an explanation regarding his motivations. Didn't threaten or say anything to Ivy after that initial sneer. The moment the guy saw that they were getting company, he pulled the trigger.

The blonde didn't think, her body kept moving on its own. Using the momentum she had garnered, she pushed Ivy out of the way as hard as she could.

It was pure luck, a happenstance of chance that she had been so close to her brunette friend upon arrival; that the corridor to the kitchen was right there on the left of these stairs where she had stood. Otherwise, Alla would have never made it in time. Ivy would have been dead. Or with a bullet in her heart, well on her way there.

They both fell to the ground. Alla almost rejoiced, thanking this miracle that allowed to save the shorter girl. Then pain bloomed in her chest.

Three more shots were fired in quick succession, and Ivy flinched, expecting to be on death's door, or at least excruciating agony descending on her soon. Instead, she noticed Sam running up the stairs, making sure the perpetrator was either deceased or at least unconscious, kicking the gun away from his hand. The firearm tumbled a few steps down the stairs before falling over the ledge and onto the floor by the map table. Thank Chuck it didn't go off again by accident.

In the next second, complete blackness enveloped the brunette without any forewarning.

The younger Winchester rushed back down, horrified to see the large and swiftly ever-growing red stain on Alla's shirt, the center of it situated over the right side of her lungs.

"No… _no_ , **_no_** , **_NO_**!" Sam muttered under his breath with increasing intensity as he threw himself onto his knees by her side, palms pressing down hard on the wound, trying to stem the bleeding. He was vaguely aware that Ivy was out cold too, but there was no obvious injury on her as far as he could see and her chest was rising and falling rhythmically. She was breathing. Maybe just hit her head as they fell, knocking herself out. So he concentrated on the blonde. "Don't do this to me, Alla!"

The hunter didn't know how, but the Ukrainian girl was still conscious, her eyes boring into him.

"Sam…" she managed to say, her words swallowed by a sickening bubbling sound as blood rushed up inside her throat, trickling down on the side of her cheek, signaling the massive hemorrhage in her lungs that Sam had already suspected.

"Don't talk, just stay with me!" the younger Winchester pleaded, pressing down even harder but to no avail. Bright red liquid oozed out between his fingers, now accumulating in a widening irregular circle around the girl's torso on the faux marble floor.

"Sam…" Alla continued in spite of his warning, struggling to get a breath into her right lung as it filled with fluid, and slowly collapsed on itself. Her left side worked relatively fine for now, but there was no way she could survive this. Not without some divine intervention anyway. Weird how fast someone could get used to the idea of having an angel in their corner. She wished Cas was here, maybe he could have healed her then.

For the first time in almost forever, she genuinely yearned to be saved. The blonde hadn't been actively suicidal in many years, she hadn't outright attempted to take her own life since that one, most desperate time in her existence when she had been barely fourteen, trapped and scared and alone in a cult. That didn't mean she hadn't longed to be dead a million times afterward, hoping for her misery to end. She had been too scared, too guilt-ridden to try anything again, so she had suffered in silence, silently begging for some outside force to do the job for her. _Suicidal ideation is what they call that, right?_ Had she not been on the verge of dying, she might have snorted at the fact that her brain blurted useless trivia at her even in this most desperate situation.

Careful what you wish for as the saying goes. They rarely turn out how you hope them too. Or when for that matter. Here she was now, holding onto the last strands of life with all her might, never wanting it to end. Sam had changed something fundamental in her with his understanding, welcoming, loving, almost serene attitude toward her. Her only desire now was to stay here, with him just a little while longer.

She had so much to say to him still, but she had to choose her words carefully, for she had no time left to convey it all.

"Please… don… don't blame… yourself…" Alla forced her hand to move with the last of her strength, placing it on Sam's jawline. She ought to have been horrified of the streak of red her fingers had left there, but all she could do was gaze lovingly into his hazel eyes, trying to burn the image of him – even if desperate and heartbroken and all – into her retina. Maybe that way on the other side, whatever or wherever that was, she would keep seeing him if she did that.

How the Ukrainian girl knew the exact thoughts that had been running through his mind, Sam didn't know. The blonde barely knew about Jessica and had no idea about the rest of the long list of women who had died because they had the misfortune of getting too close to Sam Winchester, yet, all she could do – even as she was in extremis – was trying to comfort _him_.

"Alla…" Sam choked on his own words, unable to figure out how to respond.

What wouldn't she have given for him to say her name again, to bring her back to life with that simple word? It seemed like she had been sleeping for a thousand years before she had met him. What a cruel fate for her to go right back to sleep now. For both of them.

Ivy sat up suddenly at that moment, gasping in a huge breath of air, looking around frantically as she tried to figure what had just happened. There was a slight burning sensation on her right shoulder, but otherwise, she felt unharmed. She didn't know why, but she had the firm conviction that Aaron Stark was dead and the prone figure high up in the balcony above her head just solidified that feeling.

"Ivy, get some towels!" the younger Winchester's frantic order snapped her attention back down to her friend, lying there beside Ivy in the pool of her own blood.

"Oh my God," the brunette gasped, aghast as she scrambled to her feet, staring at the scene before her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew it would have been her lying there, had Alla not intervened. It should have been her, she thought.

"Now, Ivy, go!" Sam urged, pleading.

Ivy took off running, slipping slightly on the blood beneath her feet as she tried to get to the linen closet in the corridor where the bedrooms were as fast as she could.

"Sam… I lo…" the dying girl's words were swallowed up another gurgle, and she couldn't muster the energy to try again.

At the same time, Alla's hand went limp, falling to her side as she lost consciousness from the blood loss. Sam panicked, thinking that she was already gone, but his fingers still found a slight and erratic pulse under the soft grove beside her windpipe. In either case, the blonde was in hypovolemic shock, also evident from her clammy, pale skin.

At a loss as to what else to do, the tall hunter began praying, closing his eyes to concentrate, while his hands remained firmly over the gunshot wound.

 _Cas, if you are near the Bunker… Alla's been shot, she maybe has a minute or two… please… please, come…_

Sam knew there was no way an ambulance would get here on time, even if the Bunker's warding didn't magically mess with their navigation systems, proclaiming that there was nothing here. He had no time to try and convince the medics to come anyway to the coordinates he was sending, and even then the closest critical access hospital or trauma center was at least twelve miles away. If that weren't the case, he would have tried, damn the consequences – like their hideout's location being revealed, possibly to supernatural creatures who would then come gunning for the Winchesters. He would have done that to save the girl.

Not that praying to an angel was less of a Hail Mary plan.

The younger Winchester tried not to think of what Alla's last words would have been. He knew she had feelings for him, not unrequited either if you asked him. Still, everything between them was so fresh, he didn't quite know what to do with it at the moment.

The brunette rushed back into the map room, a stack of towels in hand. Sam grabbed one quickly, pressing it onto the blonde's chest beneath his palm, before gesturing Ivy to take his place. Alla's face was ever more ashen, cold sweat on her forehead, and her body lying impossibly still.

Sam checked for breathing, pulse and found nothing.

" _Dammit,_ " he swore, beginning chest compressions. "Keep the pressure on there!" he barked at Ivy, a bit harsher than he really intended.

The girl flinched at the tone but did her best to maintain the physical force necessary to hold the towel firmly in place while Sam tried everything to restart Alla's heart.

After ten minutes, he knew for sure that he had failed. Too much time had gone by with her brain deprived of oxygen. Too much blood loss. No help in sight.

The hunter sat back on his heels, his hands falling into his lap, defeated. Staring down at the bloody mess there was only one thought on his mind. What wouldn't he give for her to be able to say his name again and save him from the dark? For there was only darkness waiting for him. He failed her. He failed a woman precious to him, yet again.

Sam had vowed time and time again in the past to never let anyone this close to him. No one besides his brother. If he cared too much, they would just be ripped away from his life like so many before them. _Jessica, Madison, Amelia…_ he had closed off his heart, hid it somewhere cold, but secretly wished for someone to find it there and lead it back home.

Alla had seen into his eyes like open doors and vice versa. He couldn't quite explain the instant connection they had, nor his inability to resist her pull, despite his prior promises to himself. And now, she was going to be his undoing. She had become his life among the myriad of dead girlfriends without consciously agreeing to it. There was no one to save him from the nothing he would become.


	18. Light that shows the way

**Chapter 18 – Light that shows the way**

 _Queen – A Kind of Magic_

* * *

Time stopped making sense. Minutes, hours, Sam didn't know how long had passed. He kept staring at the blond girl in front of him, lying motionless in the middle of a burgundy abstract painting made out of blood smears. He did this. This blood was on his hands. Quite literally too. The hunter didn't bother to wipe them off on his pants as he sat there at the base of the stairs, legs drawn up, elbows resting on his knees, hands dangling far out away from his body. Let everyone see the consequences of his sins. No point in hiding them. Nor did he give a damn about anything anymore.

The only thing that finally brought him out of his gloomy reverie was the Bunker door suddenly bursting open again. Sam ought to have moved, investigated who the new intruder was, but he couldn't come to care beyond being aware of it happening. The expression on his face didn't change. Emotionless, almost catatonic. Becoming numb was a welcome alternative compared to letting himself feel the devastating loss. Maybe it was selfish, but he couldn't give a rat's ass about that either. Maybe whoever it was would have mercy on him and end this misery.

"SAM?" came Dean's instant shout as he surveyed the scene of pure gore before him.

Right there on the top landing lay the lifeless body of a man the older Winchester did not recognize. Not that his death mattered to Dean. That was what you got for trespassing on the Winchester's turf. Glancing over the railing though, he saw something he wished he didn't have to see. Allie. Her vessel just as deserted by her soul. Not for the lack of trying to prevent just that from happening, proven by the blood-soaked towel used to try and stop the flow on top of her.

Dean trudged down in a hurry, his eyes frantically searching for Sam. How many more casualties were there in this mess?

"SAM?" he yelled again, tone growing even more urgent as his anxiety racked up with every second that passed without a reply.

Upon arriving at the bottom of the steps, he noted his brother's form just under the alcove of the balcony and stairs, hunched over, his eyes staring into nothing, his hands covered in blood, but by all intents and purposes not his own. There didn't seem to be a scratch on him. Unfortunately, that didn't mean his Moose of a brother wasn't in a state of shock. Feeling any kind of reprieve would have to wait a little while longer.

"Sam!" the older Winchester shook the other hunter's shoulder, trying to get him to pay attention. Sam wasn't in a mood to cooperate though.

The door upstairs creaked open again, and Dean instantly reached for his gun, taking a step back to gain a good vantage point of the person as they stepped to the railing of the balcony.

"Sam? Dean?" Cas's voice floated down, and relief washed over Dean, lowering his gun instantly.

The angel paid merely a glance at the dead body to his right, agilely stepping over it before making his way down.

"I came as fast as I could," their winged friend stated as he glanced at the scene before him with Alla lying cold on the ground and Sam withdrawn in the corner, just as cold emotionally. "But I see still not in time."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, confused about the whole situation.

"Sam prayed to me," Castiel revealed.

"Sam did…? For what?" the older Winchester barked his questions, desperate for information and to finally know what had actually transpired in here in his absence.

"For me to save the girl," the Angel of the Lord's tone was deadpan as he glanced at Alla's body again. "The plea was rather unnecessary though."

"Unnecessary?" Dean's anger flared, going from zero to sixty in a fraction of a second. "This is Allie we are talking about!"

"You misunderstand me," Cas backtracked. He wasn't heartless. He was able to comprehend how attached Sam had become to the blonde, even if angels weren't technically capable of feeling love. "The girl. She is an Aurora. There is no way a bullet could kill her. What you see is merely the vessel she had been forced to inhabit against her will. She had been finally freed."

Sam couldn't help but listen to the conversation unfolding right above his head. Not that it made much sense yet, but somewhere deep inside his more rational self realized even through the gloss of aloofness that there was a tiny bit of hope that not all was lost yet.

"Forced? What the hell are you even talking about?" the older brother burst out, lacking the patience to deal with Cas's cryptic clues at the moment. Although he didn't have much of that, to begin with.

"What I mean is the Sisters of the Three Auroras, a witch coven of considerable power, bound one of the three Auroras to draw power from her essence through forcing her into an endless cycle of death and reincarnation," the angel elaborated finally.

As usual, Cas's explanation opened up more questions than what they answered.

"How does that give them power? That doesn't even make any sense," Dean scratched his head, frustration starting to get the better of him. He had a long freaking day so far and had enough of witches for about a lifetime.

"Auroras, or as known in Slavic cultures, Zoryas, are powerful celestial beings that keep our universe intact. Scientifically speaking you could say they are the magical equivalent of gravity. Some cultures revere them as guardian goddesses, but they were made by God at the dawn of creation just as angels were later on," Castiel continued, unfazed by Dean's grumpiness.

"Zoryas?" Sam spoke up, glancing up at the two men for the first time, recognition dawning on his features at the name.

He had seen that term before when they were researching how to defeat Koschei. He remembered that there were conflicting legends, some mentioning only two, while the others listed three goddesses. The one that was always omitted was the Midnight Star, Zorya Polunochnaya, the goddess of wisdom, magic, mysticism, death, and rebirth. No wonder an ambitious witch coven would want to harness that power.

Just at the same time, a small footnote in the lore book about Zoryas sprang to the younger Winchester's mind as well. _Sometimes referred to as Auroras._ How had he not made the connection sooner?! He felt so stupid! The tall hunter scrambled to his feet, dashing towards the library.

"Where are you going?" Dean called after him, dumbfounded by the sudden turn of events.

"If she is not dead, I know where she is," Sam muttered, already tearing through the many books scattered on the tables, trying to unearth the tome they had brought with them to Florida.

"Slow down for a sec!" the short-haired hunter caught up with his brother, Cas in tow. "What are you talking about?"

"The Zoryas live on the island of Buyan," the younger Winchester mumbled, his concentration entirely elsewhere as he frantically searched for the book. "I met them! They were looking for her sister! How did I not figure this out sooner?"

The sister that unbeknownst to them all had been right there on the other side of the magical doors that he had shut in their faces in his panicked escape.

"Okay, back up, Sam! What do you mean you have met them?" Dean's voice was gaining volume with each sentence he uttered.

Sam's face would have flushed in embarrassment, had he not been so focused on the task at hand. He had completely forgotten to mention this fact to Dean after he had come back through that portal. Not that Dean had been in a particularly chatty mood, what with having to sew up his brother's shoulder wounds. Getting chased down by two beautiful goddesses was not something that would have lightened the atmosphere at that moment or an occurrence Sam would have liked to offer up without direct prompting or strict necessity. Past and present situation alike.

"There are two alternate versions of legends on Zoryas, either with two goddesses or with three. The one sister that is missing from newer iterations has been Alla all along!" the younger hunter decided to elucidate an entirely different part of the puzzle to divert the attention from his disgraceful flee from Buyan.

"Well, technically she had been in over fifty different vessels over the past thousand years or so since the Polish coven decided to trap her, but yes, you are correct, Sam," Castiel put his two cents in, unprompted, adding to the already superfluous flow of information that kept Dean's head spinning. "The Midnight Star had been cursed to take her own life in each isochronal cycle, triggering a reincarnation, which released enough energy to fuel the witches' powers for at least thirty years."

"Suicide?" Dean repeated the notion. "These witches use suicide as a source of power? That's sick!"

Sam stopped short as even more pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Everything about Alla made so much more sense now! Her seemingly endless well of knowledge? She was the goddess of wisdom after all! Feeling trapped all the time? She literally was caught in a scheme devised by witches, unable to escape! The curse must have had an impact on her mental health as well, trying to drive her to that one last desperate act as soon as possible so that the coven could gather magic at an even faster rate. The way the Ukrainian girl described her body failing on her time and time again. The vessel probably barely withstood her celestial energy. Like how angel vessels deteriorated if they weren't a proper match.

"Yes. She managed to somehow break the cycle this time. She didn't die when she tried to end her life at the age of thirteen," Cas divulged some of the things he had learned while getting a little glimpse of the girl's mind when he had touched her forehead.

"Wait a minute…" the older Winchester's head was spinning. He knew the blonde had a troubled life, the look in her eyes when she thought no one was watching was a clear indication, but he never thought…

"I need to go find her," Sam declared, continuing his search for the book with a renewed fervor. "Eureka!" he shouted once he found it, hurrying towards an empty desk as the side, already setting up the ingredients for the spell to open the doorway to Buyan like last time.

"Sam, hang on for a fucking second already!" Dean shouted, just about done with him rushing into something without all the information. "Cas, Allie died… wouldn't that mean that… she… you know, reincarnated into a body… _a baby_ … who knows where?"

"Her demise didn't come by her own hands. I assure you, the curse is broken," the angel ingeminated with so much conviction that the older Winchester couldn't help but accept it as fact.

"Which would mean she should be back with her sisters. In Buyan. I need to make sure she is okay," the younger hunter insisted, turning to go to the archives where he knew the boxes held most of the magical ingredients stored in the Bunker.

"Stop! Just freaking stop!" Dean strutted up to his brother, snatching the book from his hands so that he couldn't keep making the preparations, forcing him to turn back. "We don't know that to be true! And besides, how the hell did she, supposedly a goddess of wisdom, not know what was happening to her?"

Sam was taken aback. How was Dean even aware of that fact? Neither he or Cas had said anything about the characteristics of the particular Zorya Alla was.

"What?" the older Winchester snapped as he noticed his brother's expression. "You think only you read the lore while we were preparing to take that phony Skeletor out?"

"The curse ensured that she forgot everything about her past lives and any glimpses she might have had at true self at each rebirth," the trenchcoated man supplied the answer to the previous question, the pop-culture reference entirely flying over his head.

"See? Now give it back, Dean!" Sam huffed irritatedly, making a move for the book in his brother's hands, which the older Winchester nimbly kept out of his reach.

"No, Sam! Not until we have all our facts straight!" the older hunter put his foot down, angry with Sam for his recklessness. He got that his brother was desperate, but this was not the way to go about it. "For one, I'd like to know what in the flying monkey had happened here? Who's the dude on the doorstep?"

Sam blanched, suddenly realizing he wasn't able to provide an answer to that question. Dean had his suspicions, the way the whole confrontation with Don Stark had gone down, but he wasn't entirely sure.

"Where is Ivy?" Dean continued. He had been aware of the brunette's apparent absence ever since entering, but events and unexplained questions kept popping up so fast that he hadn't gotten around to asking it until now.

The younger Winchester remained silent, guilt washing over him anew. He knew the girl had been there, trying to help keep Alla alive earlier, but then after it was evident that there was nothing to do and he sunk into depression, he completely lost track of Ivy. Where had she gone? Oh God, was she even in the Bunker still? Sam wasn't a 100% certain. Was she okay? The brunette had blacked out at one point if he remembered correctly. What if she was concussed? He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he managed to get everyone killed in the Bunker besides him.

Instead of tearing him a new one, Dean acknowledged that Sam already realized his own culpability in the situation.

"Let's just find her, okay?" the older hunter suggested. "Cas can you help us? It would be faster."

"I am at your disposal, Dean," the angel replied. "May I suggest checking your bedroom first?"

The trenchcoated being felt the presence of another human in the Bunker, originating vaguely from around that direction.

 _Not bad._ Dean made a face that suggested he was impressed. Wasn't exactly the type of help he initially thought he was going to get. He had merely implied that the three of them could comb through the many rooms of the Bunker much quicker than just two, but hey, he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid," the shorter Winchester brother directed his words at Cas, with the strong implication to not let Sam attempt to open a portal before he got back.

* * *

Sure enough, in his bedroom, Dean found Ivy curled up on his bed, eyes wide open, red and puffy from presumably hours of crying. Her hair was also still a bit damp and her hands pink, allowing him to jump to the conclusion that she must have taken a shower sometime in the past few hours, trying to scrub off her friend's blood from between the creases on her fingers. As far as he could tell she had been successful, but he was aware that the urge to keep trying to wash away the blood that might not even be there anymore could be more of a psychological compulsion than actual need based on physical evidence.

"Baby girl…" he spoke softly, running his fingers through her hair.

She looked up listlessly, as if at first not even realizing who he was. A moment later something visibly shifted, and she threw herself into the man's arms.

"Oh, Dean…" Ivy sobbed, heart-struck and grieving.

"Shh… everything is alright," the hunter embraced her, trying to soothe her in any way he could.

"How… how can you say that?" the brunette was suddenly in a tizzy, annoyance at the cavalier way Dean tried to downplay the whole ordeal bubbling up inside her.

"Alla is not dead," Dean said, not blaming her for the initial reaction at all.

"But… I… I saw her… bleed out," she managed to get out between the hiccups caused by weeping.

"Yes, that is true. But Cas just gave us the lowdown that apparently she is some undying celestial goddess of some sorts," the older Winchester tried to surmise the key points of that particular revelation.

Ivy wasn't sure how she was supposed to react to this piece of news. She was shocked. She was confused. Disbelief would have been her instinctual reflex, but then so much had happened in the last ten days that shouldn't hold water. Then there was that weird occurrence when the angel had last visited that never got fully explained to her beyond the healing that was done on Alla.

"Can I see her?"

"Uhm, she is not physically here anymore. Sam thinks since Alla is a Zorya she would have awoken in Buyan now that her reincarnation curse is broken," he admitted, hating that he had to be the cause to break her spirits again.

The brunette tried to process all that, but instead of asking for clarifications on the finer details of Alla's mythical creature status, she disentangled herself from Dean and sprung to feet. Sam had a plan. "What are we waiting for then?"

And with that she strolled out of the room, heading to find the other Winchester. Ivy saw how broken up Sam was over Alla's death. She could only imagine how much he was itching to go see her again.

Dean sighed, shaking his head in pure incredulity. Man, these girls never reacted the way he thought they would.

He almost bumped into the brunette in his haste to catch up with her, since she had stopped short in the map room on the way to the library, staring up at the balcony, as if trying to convince herself that the man up there was not posing a threat to her anymore.

"That is my husband. Well, ex-husband," Ivy confessed, feeling a whole bunch of shame for the fact that she was the one who had brought this particular calamity upon them.

Alla's body was still lying there on the floor, and the brunette felt a strong urge to at least cover her with a sheet, even if supposedly the girl was alright on some faraway mystical island. It just seemed like the respectful thing to do.

"She saved me you know," Ivy murmured so quietly, the hunter almost didn't catch it.

Dean's eyes quickly shifted between Ivy and the dead man, his mind running through the implications.

"Are you okay?" he inquired finally. What was done was done, no matter what qualms he had about this exact outcome. At least the brunette was still standing. That ought to be a good sign, right?

"What do you mean?" she asked, genuinely confused.

"The curse mark. You could have died when he did," the older Winchester stated, suddenly feeling apprehensive all over again at that prospect even though it had already come to pass and proved to be untrue.

"Oh," the girl's mouth formed an drawn out O as the significance dawned on her too. "I think I passed out when he breathed his last. And my shoulder burned and itched for a while but that had stopped by now too."

Dean threw her a quick but suggestive glance, asking for her permission to look, and once she nodded, he peeked under the back of her shirt, finding… nothing. The whole birthmark was just gone as if it had never been there.

"Well, that's a relief," the hunter sighed. At least one problem down. "Come on."

He grabbed her hand and tugged her away from the scene of the crime, so to speak. No need to look at it any more than strictly necessary.

* * *

Sam exhaled audibly, the weight of self-disgust lifting a bit from his shoulders when he saw the two of them enter.

"So how do we do this?" Ivy asked uncertainly. She had slept through the last time they were performing this spell back at the motel.

Sam glanced at Dean just to make sure he didn't have any more objections, and when his brother just rolled his eyes in response, he said, "I'll be back in a sec."

True to his word, he returned a few moments later, with all the ingredients needed for the spell.

"Interesting," Cas glanced over Sam's shoulder at the elaborate instructions in the lore book but didn't expand on what he found so fascinating.

The brunette girl watched in awe as the hunter drew up all the necessary symbols, laid down the plethora of paraphernalia in their proper spots on the design, threw the various powders and liquids into the bowl at the center, then pricked his own finger to squeeze a few drops of his blood into the mix.

Sam Winchester then took the tome into his hand and began the familiar incantation, even though his Ukrainian pronunciation was nowhere near as flawless as Alla's had been.

Then nothing happened.

The tall hunter didn't panic at first. He knew it had taken a jiffy to activate even back then.

But then the seconds kept ticking by, and he knew something must have gone wrong.

"Khm," Sam cleared his throat in embarrassment. "I must have messed up the words somewhere along the way."

The younger Winchester recited the short spell again, taking extra care with every syllable to get it just right.

Still nothing.

"I don't get it…" he furrowed his brows confusedly, a wave of dread starting to wash over him. "I did everything exactly the same."

"Not quite," Dean cut in, uncharacteristically quietly and reverently of him. "Last time Alla opened the door."

"I was wondering how this was supposed to work since neither of you are married," Castiel chimed in.

"Wait… but the thing with Becky…?" Sam haltered, his eyes darting between the other two men in the room, hoping they had an explanation.

"The spell calls for a married man per se, but what they mean is a strong devotion to one's partner, powerful enough to bind your life with them under holy matrimony. Coerced marriage vows under a love spell don't count in front of our Father. You actually have to mean it," the Angel of the Lord expounded, seemingly not at all surprised by the outcome.

"How did the portal open last time if my blood is not an adequate ingredient for the spell?" the younger Winchester challenged.

"Alla is an Aurora. Even in her depowered state, she would be free to come and go as she pleased to and from the plane of her existence," the trenchcoated man shrugged.

"You mean she could have literally gone home right then and there, just like that?" Dean inquired this time since Sam seemed to be way too shocked to speak.

"Yes. Her sisters would have been able to lift the spell," Cas nodded thoughtfully. "The problem was that the curse also provided a powerful cloak to her whereabouts, so the Auroras had no way of locating her, especially since her vessel changed every ten to twenty years."

"How do you know all this?" Sam seemed to have found his voice again.

"The host knew about this whole ordeal for centuries since the sisters had come to us for help numerous times before but we weren't able to do anything about it either. Technically Auroras don't possess a soul so we couldn't hone in on her like we could with humans," the angel revealed unreadably.

"How did the universe not collapse on itself with one of the guardians missing?" Dean inquired. Not that he would have wanted to deal with another end of the world scenario, but a thousand years going by with seemingly a missing pillar in the structure sure would have formed some cracks in the façade at least.

"She still existed, even if her powers were rerouted. Her continued existence ensures the world would go on," Castiel said vacantly, though he did wonder if the Midnight Star's absence had been the cause that allowed demons to surface from hell with much less difficulty in the past few decades, setting the events that involved releasing Lucifer in motion. The fabric of the universe and different planes of existence were more interwoven than anyone could realistically assess.

"So this is it? I can't get to her?" Sam asked defeatedly, his hopes dashed in a cruel twist of fate, yet again.

"I am afraid not," their winged friend confirmed, his eyes conveying his sympathies.

"Well, we have some clean up to do anyway," Dean huffed, the two dead bodies in their entrance hallway heavy on his mind.

"Yeah… you are right," the younger brother relented. At least his love was out there, somewhere. He could live with that. "The least we can do is give her vessel a proper hunter's funeral."

Sam made his way out of the room, his hand brushing through long locks with lingering frustration.

He wasn't the only one whose morale was crushed. Ivy stood there, head hanging low as she processed everything she had heard about Alla. It all still felt entirely unreal. She had practically been best friends with a literal goddess. How did that happen?

And now she was gone, even if she wasn't truly gone. The critical factor was that she was no longer within reach for the brunette. Ivy's husband was dead. Her whole life as she knew it up until now was thoroughly turned upside down, with no steady points to anchor herself with amidst this torrent.

Dean's hand landed on her shoulder, making her jump for a second.

"You okay there?" he asked solemnly.

Well, maybe there was one rock she could hold onto after all.

"Yeah, I think I will be," the brunette nodded, finding a renewed strength within herself. "I guess I have a house to sell. Though wait a minute… how are we going to explain Aaron's death to the authorities?"

The older Winchester was taken aback, not entirely sure what the implications of her words meant for him. That plural pronoun was throwing him off big time. She didn't mean… did she?

"How opposed are you to living under the radar?" Dean asked in spite of himself. He could be selfish once in a while, right?

"Honestly? Screw society," she didn't have to think too long or hard on that question. She had been living in quasi-isolation due to Aaron's shenanigans for years anyway. There wasn't much genuinely tying her to her current life.

"Well, then screw the house," he declared, mind already forming a plan. "We'll make his body disappear. You'll both probably be treated as a missing person's case back home in Virginia for a while. You should be fine with your new identity."

Dean never would have thought that those fake IDs would actually come in handy. He never dared to hope that Ivy would want to stay with him. Although… she hadn't said anything about that just yet.

"So what are you going to do with your new found freedom?" the hunter broached the subject carefully. Maybe she wanted to go off and start a new life somewhere far away from here after all?

Ivy glanced up at the man, confused about what he meant. _Wasn't it obvious?_

"Would I be a terrible burden if I stayed for a while?" the brunette asked, now suddenly unsure. Maybe Dean didn't want her here at all. She was just a damned civilian after all. A hindrance. A liability. Look where it got them this time.

The older Winchester's mouth curled into a tiny half-smile.

"No," he said finally. "Not at all."

"I am rejoiced by your union," Castiel declared, engulfing them suddenly in a massive three-way bear hug.

Dean let out a big oof, as the air was squeezed out of their lungs with the intensity of their winged friend.

"Cas, can't breathe," Ivy muttered, while Dean rumbled on about personal space.

"My apologies," the angel released them at once, thoroughly confused as to why his show of approval didn't align with normal human customs when one's friends professed their new-found companionship to each other.

The hunter cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck.

"So I better help, Sam," he declared, suddenly unsure what to do with himself.

"Okay," Ivy agreed, with a mischievous smile forming on her lips. She was already envisioning what was going to come once night fell.

"Yeah, okay," Dean made his way towards the archway leading out of the library, before suddenly turning back. "By the way, we'll have some rigorous training to do."

Guess that whole program he had devised to get Alla up to speed on everything hunting related wasn't going to waste after all.

The brunette completely misconstrued the meaning though.

"You betcha," she winked at him.

For the first time since who knows how long – probably that time Andrea thanked him for saving her son, Lucas, with a kiss at Lake Manitoc – Dean felt himself blushing at a woman's attention.

"I really did mean training," he insisted, though he was not opposed to her suggestion at all.

"Sure," the brunette nodded, smirking.

"I'm being serious," Dean huffed.

"Me too," Ivy retorted playfully.

"You are impossible," the older Winchester gave up and decided to walk out of the situation instead.

Truth be told, the girl had known all along what Dean had meant, but the opportunity of teasing and the subsequent banter was way too good to pass up. Not to mention that she not so subtly managed to let him know that she had been touch starved, in desperate need of him as well. Two birds with one stone.

"Your skills in making Dean flustered are astounding," Castiel muttered beside the girl, taking note of the techniques used. Sexual innuendo was definitely not something he had mastered yet, but he was willing to experiment for optimal results.

"Thanks, Cas," Ivy smiled upon the angel. "Care for some brownies?" she said, suddenly remembering the stock-full plate on the adjacent table.

"Unfortunately, when my grace is at full power, food just tastes like molecules to me," the trenchcoated man tried to politely decline. "When I was human a couple of years ago, I had the fortune, or misfortune depending on the way you look at it, to try out some of the gastronomic pleasures humanity has to offer with actually having the capability to truly appreciate them."

"Humans can become angels?" the brunette asked.

"No. Quite the contrary. I had been an angel since the time the first vertebrates crawled out of the ocean. Depletion of grace can render us, for all intents and purposes, human though," Cas informed her as if that was the most mundane piece of knowledge out there.

"Cool," she nodded thoughtfully, processing the fact that the being beside her was millions of years old. "So, a cookie?" she extended the plate toward him again.

For some odd reason, the angel was unable to resist this time. This girl was just way too sweet to refuse. Cas briefly wondered if the girl actually possessed some unique kind of magic to compel him. He took one and pretended to thoroughly enjoy it as he ate it, crumbs falling out of his mouth as he made humming sounds to sell the act.

* * *

As they stood there by Alla's funeral pyre under the setting sun – after Dean brought Sam up to speed on the fact that their mystery infiltrator had in fact been the infamous Aaron Stark – the younger Winchester couldn't help but follow up on how in the world that scumbag managed to swipe one of their Bunker keys off Dean.

"Whatever had happened in Denver?" he asked, undoubtedly that was the pivotal moment where everything had gone to shit.

"Jody saved my ass, that's what," the older Winchester huffed, non-too proud of his performance in that instance.

"Yeah, I bet. I was the one who asked her to track you down after you haven't checked in for a while," Sam retorted cheekily.

"She did mention something like that," Dean rubbed the back of neck to hide the mortification he felt.

"So… what happened?"

"It was a trap," the shorter hunter sighed.

"I figured…" Sam egged him on, desperate to know.

"Rowena cut a deal for a few grimoire pages, and apparently Don decided to grant his distant nephew another favor," Dean shrugged. He wasn't exactly privy to all the details either. Villains these days, man, they don't even monologue anymore to reveal the crucial plot points to their plans. "They were expecting me, got the jump on me, then when they had me knocked out, rummaged through all my belongings apparently. I woke up bound to a chair by a magical rope that had no knots, and they were very careful to strip anything and everything sharp from me. I had been trying to wriggle free for two days when Jody finally showed up. The motel room had been ransacked as well. They even took my phone."

That explained the rope burn marks on Dean's wrists and presumably ankles that Sam had noticed but hadn't commented on before. And the radio silence on the way home. But not much else.

"They just left you there?" the younger Winchester inquired incredulously.

"Yup," the other hunter nodded.

"That's a load of bullcrap. Doesn't make any sense."

"Preach, brother, preach," Dean agreed.

"Do you think… Rowena's deal stipulated to leave you unharmed?" Sam theorized even though that would have meant a serious change of heart for the witch compared to previous years' experiences.

"Hell, if I know. Doesn't seem like something she would do," the older brother crossed his arms, trying to imagine a world where Rowena would help them without some ulterior motive involved.

"Well, she did double-cross us, so that's definitely something she would do. What if she triple-crossed them and saved your ass by accident in the process?" the tall guy kept on, the lack of answers eating him up from the inside.

"And we are wondering where Crowley got his lovely personality from, eh?" Dean joked, trying to lift the mood the little. It was a funeral, yes, but supposedly only a symbolic one.

"Who's Crowley?" Ivy interjected suddenly. The brothers had almost forgotten the brunette was standing right there beside them.

"King of Hell," Dean supplied the information this time. _No point in keeping secrets in front of her anymore, right?_

"Has anyone told you, you need to be more careful with who you let into your lives?"

"Started out as a sort of reluctant alliance," Sam said, suddenly missing Alla all over again. She knew about Lucifer already, he could have told her all about the weird twists of fate and short straws they had drawn that had led to actually needing Crowley's help all those times.

"Gotcha," the girl nodded, understanding all too well.

Though her relationship with Aaron didn't start out as one described above, she had definitely felt like there was kinship there even if one-sided on her part, but in later years it morphed into something else. Habit, familiarity, necessity, but not love. A toxic codependence she wasn't sure how she would have gotten out of if it weren't for Alla and this little adventure she had brought her own.

Damn, Ivy wished she could have had another chance to talk to the blond girl. To thank her at least.

The brunette glanced at the ditch behind them where a different kind of fire roared. They had all mutually agreed that the bastard had to be salted and burned to make sure he didn't come back and hunt them as a ghost, but in no way would they put in the effort to build an actual pyre for him like for Alla. That privilege only belonged to hunters, and in Dean's and Sam's mind, the blonde had earned that title. She sure had the saving people part down from the family motto.

Sam just hoped there would be a light that showed the way back to her eventually.


	19. Life is ours, we live it our way

**Chapter 19 – Life is ours, we live it our way**

 _Metallica – Nothing Else Matters_

* * *

A light breeze blew through the vast open field of verdant green. In one direction, hills gently rolled until eyes could see, whereas the terrain suddenly cut off with a steep drop to the ocean in the other. In the distance, a medieval style castle sat on top of the highest hilltop, drawing anyone's attention at once to itself if they were to gaze upon this vista.

A figure lay in the grass, a halo of long, almost silvery white, ash blond hair spread around her head. The woman blinked as she slowly came to, the brilliant midnight blue hue of her eyes becoming visible.

She sat up slowly, taking in her surroundings, her eyes naturally drawn towards the ocean, her solace.

"Am I dead?" Alla asked seemingly from no one. If she was, this was certainly a serene enough place to end up in.

Then memories of dozens of lifetimes flooded her, making her double over in pain, burrowing her face in her palms as she rested her hands on her knees, trying to process the images that flashed before her eyes faster than humanly possible to comprehend.

The blonde looked up a few moments later, face going lax as everything became crystal clear in her mind now. She was Zorya Polunochnya, the Midnight Star. The goddess of death, rebirth, magic, mysticism, and wisdom. Her identity, along with millions of years' worth of knowledge, was now accessible to her within a fraction of a second.

The sensation was freeing in a way she hadn't felt in a thousand years.

A thousand years she had spent under the curse of the Sisters of the Three Auroras. Though wisdom would have dictated forgiveness, she couldn't help but feel an immeasurable amount of fury towards her captors. How dare they ensnare a celestial being like her to further their own foolish ends? Was this how they repaid her benevolence?

Before she could delve deeper into her hatred, from behind two female voices called out to her from a distance. The goddess got to her feet and turned around, preparing herself for an onslaught. Until – as she caught sight of the approaching figures – recognition dawned on her face.

"Polu!" yelled with a fervent wave the youngest of the sisters, Zorya Utrennyaya, the Morning Star, clad in her armor and equipped with her weapons like the courageous warrior that she was, always prepared. As the patron of horses and protector against death in battle according to Slavic lore, she was responsible for opening the gates so that the chariot of the sun could come through, bringing forth the hope of a new day.

Midnight cringed at the nickname, though that reaction caught even her by surprise. Maybe she had been conditioned to fear names given to her due to the adverse experiences suffered in her latest iteration of human life? Even though Allah was the name of a god, it had always come with negative connotations when applied to her. No, she realized the source of the problem a second later. Having access to an infinite amount of knowledge unconsciously sure had its drawbacks.

Since the last time she had heard her youngest sister's name invention, a thousand years had passed in the human world, and in that time, they had managed to come up with a non-too-flattering slang definition for the word in the English language: a small tuxedo made for the penis. _Great._ In the Slavic languages, it merely meant _semi-_ or _middle of_ , hence why Polunochnya translated to _middle of the night_ , or _midnight_. Quite innocent enough, but now she wasn't sure she could bear to hear the pet name again. Maybe her aversion to pet names and their possible teasing quality did have something to do with this after all.

Behind the girl, Zorya Vechernyaya, the Evening Star followed in a more sedated pace, dressed in a simple white dress, similar to the one Morgan – the chosen name of the Morning Star – wore under her plates of female armor. The middle sister was in charge of closing the gates of heaven when the sun returned home, and although purportedly older than the battle-ready youngling – emitting an aura of motherly nature – she looked just the same in terms of age.

Midnight herself was supposed to represent the crone in the Triple Goddess archetype, due to her advanced mental capabilities and foresight born from the careful analysis and observation skills that one was only presumed to gain through advanced age – which technically held true, given that she had been around since the dawn of time. Still, her appearance was as youthful as ever, if not rivaling that of her sisters. Although they all looked very similar to each other; all blonde, with just a touch of difference in the tones of their hair, and also possessing varying shades of blue eyes. Utrennyaya's was impossibly light blue, while Vechernyaya's almost looked purple in certain lightings and angles. Alla with the midnight blue eyes had always been the tallest of the three, no matter what form she had taken on.

"Welcome home, sister," Eve, as they had come to call her over the millennia, greeted politely.

"Polu, Polu, Polu!" Morgan hopped around in excitement, enveloping her in a bone-crushing hug. "I can't believe you are finally home!"

"Please, do not utter that name in front of me ever again," the eldest's voice rang with icy cold undertones. Though she knew it wasn't the young warrior's intention, the whole situation reeked of mocking to her.

"But why? It is your name, Polunochnya," the younger girl pouted, unaccustomed to her sisters chiding her or saying no.

"You may call me Leila," she insisted. In Arabic it translated to _night_ , befitting her nature just as well. Though in some variants it meant _dark beauty_ , and her coloring was in no way in alignment with the title, her soul had become dark as night due to the harrowing experiences she had to live through, so in the end, the name worked out just the same. "Or Allie," Midnight mentioned on second thought, smiling as she recalled the nickname Dean Winchester had given her.

Rearranging the letters of her newly chosen name spelled out the endearment inspired by her last human name and she quite liked it. That form – though just as desperate and fragile as the previous fifty had been – was what finally allowed her to throw her shackles off. It would forever remain a fond memory in her heart.

"How about Polly?" Utrennyaya tried again, enthusiasm regained in a heartbeat.

A rhyming variation born from Molly, which was, in turn, the pet form of Mary. In no way was the Midnight Star virginly or saintly, especially not now. Somewhere in the back of her mind she also did not wish to be associated with Sam and Dean's mother. Not that she had anything against the woman.

Her actions after her resurrection that might seem like an abandonment of the brothers to many, in a way made complete sense to the goddess. Mary had felt lost. In the world that was all so alien to her, having missed thirty-odd years of it. In her role as a mother, her children having long since grown up. In her new relationship status as a widow, whereas the last she had known she still had a husband, never given a chance to mourn him. Not to mention having to come to terms with the parenting decisions John had made in her absence, resulting in her sons becoming hunters, the very outcome she had wanted to avoid when she had left the life to be with the man in the first place. No doubt, in a way she also felt guilty for the consequences her deal with Azazel had on the boys too, even if never having made that decision would have resulted in there being no Winchester brothers at all. Alla understood that it was all too much for her to deal with while having to put on a brave face in front of Sam and Dean. Since they were adults now, she deemed they would be alright on their own until she got her act together. They had been just fine up until then, after all.

Still, Midnight wished to avoid even the slightest chance that someone in their mind would associate her with the former Campbell. It would feel… awkward. Sam was still heavy on her mind, even if in the background for now.

"How about no?" Allie replied sharply. If looks could kill, the young goddess would have burst into flames on the spot.

"Why are you being such a meanie?" Morgan cried out, burrowing herself under Eve's arm, seeking comfort and motherly protection.

"Morgan, I think you better let our dear one rest. It has been a trying time for her," the middle sister sighed, aiming to act as a keeper of peace and an island of calm in the rising torrent of tension.

"You think?" Midnight snarled, uncharacteristically of her. She had usually been the most even-tempered of them all. "I would have expected better from the two of you than letting me rot in the human world for a thousand years, cursed to take my own life over and over again."

"Your accusation is unfounded, Sister, I assure you," Eve countered civilly, though there was a bit of a bite to her tone now as well. "We've been searching night and day, without rest throughout the entire millennium. Every time we had managed to gain any leads on your whereabouts you had reincarnated into another body, rendering us back to square one! We even tried to employ the Heavenly Host's help but to no avail. We had nearly given up all hope when we sent Kostiy after you, lowering ourselves to such dirty means, and even he was slain…"

"What did you just say?" the wise woman bellowed with a renewed surge of fury. Koschei had been after _her_ all along? Had the creature been retracing her steps as Alla, trying to track her down? Kostiy did have a weird connection to the fate of others. As if he could smell it. Why else would it have been in Clearwater, Florida of all places? "How could you willingly unleash such a monster onto the world's young maidens?"

Ivy had been endangered and who knew how many countless women before her had met their untimely demise at the hands of the menace by the time it had raised a red flag in the hunting world. This was an utter disgrace to what the Zoryas were supposed to represent!

"'Willingly' implies we had other options to consider, dear sister. We were desperate. I am not entirely sure how much longer the mere two of us would have been able to keep the world from falling apart. You think your absence had been easy on us? Then came that young hunter, killed our last chance and didn't have the decency to stay around long enough for us to relay our pleas for assistance in return," Vechernyaya ranted on, clearly running out of her patience as well.

"What would you have expected from Sam Winchester? Leave that monstrosity be after it tormented humans, the ones he had sworn to protect?" Allie burst out.

"That is not what I meant at all, Leila," Eve forced herself to calm down and call Polunochnyaya by her chosen name in a soothing manner as well, not even questioning how the goddess of wisdom came to know about the identity of the hunter who had visited their plane. They were used to her habit of pulling facts seemingly out of nowhere. "I am… I am just glad you have finally been returned to us."

"What of the witches who had done this ghastly deed?" Midnight inquired, her voice seemingly noncommittal, but under the surface, there was a plan forming. "Have _they_ been dealt with?"

"We… uhm… didn't have the resources to spare," the middle sister quietened, bracing herself for another wave of anger from the tall blonde.

"Very well. I will attend to it myself," Allie stuck her nose up, turning her back on her sisters, preparing to open up a portal to return to Earth.

At that moment in time, nothing else mattered to her but justice. She finally had her real life back, she was going to live it her way – at least for a little while, before returning to duties. She desperately needed it, to feel in control so far as possible in the circumstances.

"You are leaving?" Morgan peeked up from under Eve's arm. "You just got here!"

"Please, Sister, you cannot leave. We have to replenish our magic reserves," Eve protested as well.

"I will be back shortly, do not fret," the eldest glanced back over her shoulder, for a fraction of a second the serene, almost all-knowing quality returning to her features.

Then with a wave of her hand, a door opened, and she stepped through without another word.

The remaining two Zoryas couldn't help but feel that the sister they had managed to gain back was vastly different from the one they had lost. Just under the surface, there was war broiling within her that they hoped would not pose further problems for them.

* * *

A couple of weeks – no, months – had gone by since Alla's "death" and even though Sam knew she was still out there somewhere, her absence never got any easier to bear.

Ivy had somehow seamlessly weaved her way into their lives. Mostly with running things in the background from the Bunker, providing a kind of domesticity the brothers had never had the opportunity to experience. Slowly she had also occasionally started to come along on hunts if – according to Dean's initial assessment – it was prognosed to be something akin to a milk run.

Speaking of Dean, despite having someone waiting for him at home, he had been just as reckless and protective of his brother as ever, willing to give himself up to Billie the Reaper when they had made a deal with her to escape that secret government facility, Site 94. Sam didn't know how he would have broken the news to the brunette had Cas not intervened. As if six weeks of constant worry hadn't been enough for her. The thought still caused an uncomfortable shiver to run down his spine since he wasn't sure if Billie would have accepted Mary's offer to sacrifice herself in their stead.

Things were relatively quiet in the Bunker at the moment, despite the possibility of a Nephilim coming to be looming over their heads – until that is the tall Winchester stumbled upon a possible case during his routine checks of internet sources that the algorithm he had written marked for his attention.

"Hey, get this," he gestured for Dean to come to take a look at his screen.

A list of similar incidents, spanning over most of the States under a short duration of time, yet clearly following a pattern and sharing the same characteristics in terms of modus operandi. The result? Multiple victims, all suddenly dropping dead for seemingly no reason. Their hearts just stopped.

"Are you thinking reapers?" the older hunter guessed. The timing wasn't quite right, but could this have been part of the cosmic consequences Billie hinted at when Castiel double-crossed their deal?

"Possibly…" Sam trailed off, brows knit in contemplation.

 _Though technically a type of angel (even if vastly different in many regards), unaffiliated with heaven, hell or purgatory, the agents of Death had not been affected by the affliction the Fall had caused to the members of the Host over three years ago – to their knowledge. Most of the angels' wings had been burned beyond repair – or at least beyond what could be healed through grace under such a short period of time. A problem that the repercussions of they felt quite dearly as well since Cas couldn't just pop in and out to help them at a moment's notice._

 _Thankfully that also meant the Winchesters hadn't had to fear undue angelic interference for a long while now. Most of the winged dicks had returned to heaven after Metatron, God's pesky little scribe, had been taken care of anyway. Even if some thought better of it and remained, having become accustomed to Earth after the Fall, their numbers had dwindled considerably due to the faction wars, which was also the reason why they rarely worked together in large groups anymore. Everyone fended for themselves, the law of the jungle._

 _Since reapers resided in Death's domain or in the Veil – ready to appear at a moment's notice to collect the souls of those who passed away – the above conundrum shouldn't come into play in their case. Even if it did, theoretically it could have been a group of reapers doing the deed, but that seemed highly unlikely._ _Too systematic for it to be natural. And reapers were all about the Natural Order…_

 _But then who? Rouge reapers? Or was someone controlling the reapers through dark magic? They had seen that one before when they had stumbled upon a faith healer eleven or so years ago. But that was a highly localized event… Fate? Did someone mess with the timeline? There was that whole fiasco with the Titanic because of Balthasar…_

"Where do you think they will hit next?" Dean interrupted his brother's train of thought that had been running off on odd – mostly irrelevant – tangents, bringing him back to the present.

The long-haired man cleared his throat, typing away at his keyboard swiftly to visualize the data they had.

"Khm… if I had to take a guess… Arizona," Sam theorized looking at the map that marked each death in chronological order. Whoever this person or people were, they meticulously covered every state starting from the East Coast so far, the last strike having been in Colorado and New Mexico.

He couldn't help but feel guilty for the fact that they hadn't noticed this pattern sooner. It couldn't really be helped since they had been imprisoned by the government for the majority of the time since this had been happening, but still.

"Well, then I guess gear up. We have a job to do," the older Winchester exhaled heavily, rubbing the back of his neck as he contemplated how to break the news to Ivy. She had been becoming more and more insistent on joining them on hunts ever since the brothers' disappearance, but this didn't seem like something he would want to drag her along on. Too many variables, too many unknowns, hunches, and guesses. Too many ways to die with just one misstep.

* * *

In the end, there wasn't much he could do to dissuade the brunette, and now three people were sitting the Impala, on their way to Phoenix, Arizona. She had hopped in the back, all ready to go, and refused to get out. Not even wild horses could have dragged her away from the car. For the sake of hitting the road without any more delay, Dean had no other choice but to give in.

As a result, there was a palpable and ever-growing tension between the two of them that had Sam quite uncomfortable as the seventeen-hour drive went on. To ignore it, he mainly buried himself into his laptop as he sat in the shotgun seat, trying to find anything and everything out about the previous incidents by hacking police records. He got the distinct feeling there was a method to this madness, or that the perpetrator was trying to find someone.

All victims were female, a grouping of three to thirteen (but never more) at each location where the killer had struck, and all living relatively close together, in one community. Their homes were located in the suburbs, and according to Google Street View all with little herbs gardens…

 _Three to thirteen… that number is significant_ , Sam realized.

"Dean?" the younger Winchester spoke up suddenly, having an epiphany. "I think the victims are witches."

Dean didn't reply verbally, just furrowed his brows at his brother questioningly.

"I think someone is wiping out covens," Sam continued.

"You think, or you know?" the older brother huffed.

"It's a hunch," the long-haired hunter admitted.

"Based on?" Dean grumbled.

"Just the numbers of victims, locations…"

"Going out on a limb here, but isn't that a good thing?" Ivy interjected timidly from the backseat, carefully avoiding eye contact with Dean in the review mirror.

Dean just made a face. Ten years ago, he would have gladly replied with a resounding _yes_. But he didn't quite see the world as plainly black and white anymore. There were animal-blood sucking vampires and various other supernatural entities that could peacefully coexist with humanity, without causing it harm. Heck, these witches – if that's what really what they were – could have been Wiccans, or practicing some healing voodoo that did no harm to anyone, for all they knew. Who were they to judge whether they've got to live or not?

"Still worth checking out," Sam replied instead, catching the minute way Dean's grip tightened around the steering wheel.

"Yeah, of course," the brunette backtracked.

True, she didn't have much experience with the supernatural yet, and witches had obviously been forever connected in her mind with a lifetime worth of suffering she had been caused, but she realized she shouldn't be so quick to judge. It hadn't been in her nature before regarding a myriad of various other topics either, so applying it now seemed like a logical step as well.

The uncomfortable silence stretched on in the car.

"I kinda wish Alla was here. She would say something unexpected that would have us laughing in a heartbeat," Ivy lamented, mostly to herself, but quickly realized that she had said it out loud and glanced at Sam apologetically.

He just smiled ruefully. "Yeah, she would."

* * *

Countless hours and one quick pit stop later to catch some Z's, the trio made it to the Phoenix metropolitan area. Dean had almost pulled into the parking lot of one of the roadside motels when something occurred to him.

"We've been here before," he stated, quickly course correcting.

Their policy was that they never stayed in the same motel twice, lest someone recognized them and realized something was amiss. Especially since they had been using a variety of fake credit cards. Better not tempt fate with getting caught.

"Oh, right. Eight or so years ago?" Sam glanced up from his laptop.

Seemed like a lifetime ago, the Apocalypse and countless other near disasters have come and gone, and they had never actually returned since then like they had promised.

The younger Winchester fished his phone out, dialing the number they had received from the resident druid.

 ** _The number you have dialed is not in service…_**

 _Huh, weird_ , Sam thought. He must have changed numbers since then. Not that uncommon an occurrence, especially since so many years had gone by.

"We should swing by that bookstore on Ash Ave and see if Atticus is there. He would know if something was going on in town," the taller hunter suggested after the unsuccessful attempt at reaching out.

"Who's Atticus?" Ivy inquired curiously.

"A druid," Sam replied curtly, then frowned. " _The_ druid, I guess."

"Oh, okay," she nodded, even though that description meant little to her beyond pop cultural depictions. Somehow, she doubted they were looking for an old dude in a ramshackle cabin up in the woods with only animals for company.

If she knew just how close to the truth that was at present… Minus the old part if appearance was what you were going off of, and that there was one more human in the equation now. An apprentice. Also instead of the woods, a remote desert location was this particular druid's current place of residence.

* * *

The idea – though great in theory – turned out to be a bust. The Third Eye Books and Herbs was no longer occupying the lot where it should have been. Instead, a comic shop advertised all sorts of geeky goodies for sale.

"What now?" Dean asked, clearly irritated.

"Guess we need to find out who the next targets would be," Sam sighed. "We need to find us some witches."

"Great…" the older Winchester griped. "Just freaking awesome."

He hated witches.

"How do we do that?" Ivy inquired, genuinely curious about the process. She still had a lot to learn about hunting.

"Scour local news, archives, obits, anything and everything for weird occurrences, deaths, out of the ordinary things and go from there," the hunter replied patiently. "I've been on it during the drive, but nothing unusual of recent in the area on the internet, so I guess we should hit the library, research further back. Maybe that will give us a hint."

"You two go do that," Dean cut in, his eyes intently scanning the area. You could almost see the gears turning in his head. "I'm gonna ask around here if they know whatever had happened to our ginger friend. Meet you at Rúla Búla in three hours or so?"

"Sure," his brother nodded, also deep in thought.

* * *

Not even thirty minutes into the search, Sam found something that could be of import. An incident that had happened only a week after their first time spent in Tempe – hence why it didn't show up in his initial sweep of the internet, it was well enough back in time not be on the internet site of newspapers as a story. The Satyrn Massacre.

Pandemonium broke out at a club in Scottsdale, twenty-five deaths, countless injuries, even two dead cops among the casualties, but what most stood out to him were the fourteen dead females among the victims who had all worn white sheath gowns. How very Greco-Roman of them. If he were to take a guess based on all the other circumstances, he would have gone with Bacchants. The place was a night club, which was easily the of the modern-day equivalent of the place of wine, indulgence, and sex; plus the fact that some of the other dead were found naked, sometimes in compromising positions, as if they were in mid-orgy. Nasty pieces of work Bacchants are. As a hunter, he had no problem with the dispatching of such creatures.

The weird part was that twelve of the Bacchants died of heart failure with no external signs, and two were basically clubbed to death. A man with baseball bats was apprehended but escaped from the scene. Red hair, one missing right ear – that was all the description of the suspect on file, but for some reason, the younger Winchester was confident that it had been Atticus. He had been missing that ear when they had last seen him.

The question was: who did he work with to dispatch the Bacchants? So poorly, the hunter might add. That was an awful lot of bystanders dead. If he had to guess the twelve were either killed by the same thing they were hunting now – reapers, though that guess was starting to seem more and more unlikely to him – or something else entirely, but the manner of death was very similar, except the Bacchants were definitely not a coven of witches. Maybe a witch had helped Atticus? And what they were experiencing now was witch on witch violence? It had to be no ordinary witch for sure.

Sam sighed heavily. Definitely more research was needed. Possibly getting the fed threads on and visiting the local police station instead of trying to gather second-hand info from hacking. Before he could devise a strategy, Ivy tapped his shoulder insistently.

"Hey, Sam," the brunette whispered with a gulp. "Why is that guy staring at us like he is about to rip our hearts out?"

The hunter glanced up, spotting a man with a Joe Buck haircut and wearing a custom-tailored suit standing there at the entrance of the coffee shop they were sitting in with his arms crossed. He looked vaguely familiar to the younger Winchester, just couldn't quite place him…

The man started approaching them, making Sam tense up, and his eyes scouring the possible exits if it came to fight. Not to mention he had to watch out for Ivy as well. Dean would kill him if anything happened to her.

"Never thought I'd see you around here again," Mr. Hauk – his name was, the hunter suddenly remembered – sighed glancing between the two of them.

Internally, he almost laughed at the irony of the girl's comment, which he could hear even from the door. It was spot on if his kind's nature was taken into account, even if he didn't entertain such vile means to get his fill anymore. Not since meeting Nietzsche. The concept of nihilism was enough to stop him in the tracks and make him think about the consequences of giving into his true nature without a care to anything else.

He was a werewolf, of course. Not that these two knew about it.

"We met once at the Third Eye Books and Herbs, right?" the younger Winchester acknowledged, eliciting a smirk of the lawyer's face. He was impressed that the hunter remembered after all this time.

Sam also noticed that he had barely aged – if at all – in the past eight years. _Something to think about later…_

"If you are looking for Atticus, you won't find him in town anymore," Hal commented, without confirming anything.

That much the younger Winchester already had guessed based on the fact the shop was no longer operational. Plus Atticus would have surely sought them out as soon as he got wind of their presence in the area if he had been around. The guy was a conundrum to Sam. How did he know Atticus, what was their relation? Based on the way he dressed he seemed like some hot-shot investment banker or…

"In either case, that is not the reason I am here," the lawyer continued, internally grumbling at the fact that his hard-earned degree was put to use as an errand boy. "A client of mine asked me to relay to you to meet her at the Bridgeview Condos in the Town Lake district."

 _Her? Just who the hell this guy's client was? Maybe Genevieve – no wait, what her name was? Gwendolyn? Granuaile! That's it, that redhead who was Atticus's assistant or something._

"Thanks, I guess," Sam nodded, glad to see that the guy in spite of his intimidating outlook was not seeking to start a fight with them.

The werewolf lawyer left as suddenly as he came, leaving both of them a bit adrift as to what they were supposed to do with the information.

"Should we call Dean?" Ivy asked, anticipating that her boyfriend will not like hearing about this encounter.


End file.
